A Cure?
by Bloodthirsty Muffin
Summary: What disaster happened when Wanda introduced her boyfriend Juandíssimo to her father? How did she and Juan break up? Why do Wanda and Blonda hate each other? Did their mother really always prefer Blonda? How did Cosmo and Wanda meet? The answers to these questions lie in one of the most dramatic events in Wanda's life. COMPLETE!
1. I can't believe I'm doing this

**THE FAIRLY ODDPARENTS:**

**A CURE?**

BY BLOODTHIRSTY MUFFIN

* * *

_So this is it. My new, old story. Maybe some of you know this already but I decided to revise the story in some details and I'll also add a new chapter. So lean back and enjoy some of the most dramatic events in Wanda's life!_

_(Oh and I still don't own FOP but I'll keep trying to take it over!)_

* * *

**Chapter 1: I can't believe I'm doing this**

I didn't know what hell had come over me. I knew I was mad. It hadn't been my idea after all!

Lost in my worried thoughts I looked outside through the window of my car. I was actually doing it. I was about to introduce my boyfriend to my parents. It just had to end in a total disaster, hadn't it?

"Relax, my sweet," Juandíssimo told me casually while driving. "Everything's going to be fine. Trust me."

I laughed nervously and turned my head to the left.

"You don't know my father," I answered and looked away again.

I wasn't nervous because of my Mum's reaction. In fact my mother was the last thing I was worrying about. She was a very friendly and superficially a likeable person who always maintained peace. I was absolutely sure that she'd conjure no conflict because of my boyfriend. My father was the reason for my worries.

My father was a loving, caring person. He actually cared a little too much. He always tried to protect me, even from things, which weren't a real danger. But especially he tried to keep me away from men. When I had been in kindergarten he had even threatened a boy for having taken away my teddy bear.

I had never been eager to confront my father with the fact that I had a love life and I preferred to give him the illusion that I still played with dolls from time to time. Juan and I were a couple for about three years now and although Daddy had already asked me several questions about my boyfriend I had somehow managed to keep my father away from him. The four hours long car journey between Cerise – my home town where my parents still lived – and Amaranth – the town where I had moved after my high school graduation in order to study medicine – had been a great help in that matter.

Almost one month ago we had already borne another car journey which had almost been just as long. Back then Juan had let me meet his family and he had been nervous too for I was the first woman he had ever introduced to them. But I knew that his agitation couldn't be compared to what I was going through.

"Look, honey," Juan interrupted my thoughts. When I raised my head I saw a woman with a buggy and an elder lady excitedly waving at us. Smiling I waved back at them which seemed to make them very happy. "Do you know them?"

"Only by sight. Have to be some of our…_fans,_" I answered a little sarcastically and Juan laughed.

"Some of millions," he added grinning which made me smile as well.

Juan and I had become sort of celebrities for our special talent. For dancing. About six weeks ago we had won the fairy world championship which I hadn't expected for I hadn't known much about dancing until we had met and he had taught me about it. But to be honest: The reason for our popularity was not our talent…

Our strength was arousing people's enthusiasm. Our choreographies were attracting, special and sexy. We had lots of fun while dancing and this had been also noticed by the press. Our love and the way we showed it was handed on a plate to all the gossip magazines. We were their favourite couple – the one and true love. Even the jurors at the fairy world championship had been wrapped around our little fingers. It wasn't like Juan and I were _really_ famous. We only appeared in these gossip magazines I normally didn't even take I look at when I passed them in a supermarket. We knew that the little piece of fame we were enjoying was just a flash in the pan and that was okay with us. We danced because we loved it and not for being appreciated by the press.

In fact the short confrontation with our status in public couldn't even distract me for a long time from what I was about to do, what disaster we were about to conjure.

Some minutes later we reached the street where my parents lived and a little later on I spotted their villa, the house where I had grown up. When I told Juan so he parked at the pavement, turned off the engine and then left the car. Slowly I did the latter as well and followed him to the trunk, which he had opened already.

"This is probably the last chance to simulate a heart attack," I reminded him when he was taking out the suitcase, which contained our clothes and other stuff. A fresh spring breeze reached us and let my long and curly hair dance in the wind.

"Come down, _mi amor_," he tried to put my mind at ease. "What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"You don't want to know," I answered sighing, took the travelling bag out of the trunk, shouldered it and closed the trunk.

My hand was a little sweaty when he took it after locking the car and together we walked towards the entrance through the front garden. The cherry tree was blooming and so did many flowers. Once again the gardener had arranged the all flowers in an original way like he did every year. I would have been able to pay more attention to the pretty front garden if my heart hadn't begun to beat faster with every step we took. When we had reached the veranda I stretched out my hand to ring the bell but I pulled it back and turned to Juan again.

"Seriously, honey. This is an awful idea! My father is going to hate you because he'd hate any man at my side. They didn't see us yet, we'll just get back to the car-" I began and wanted to flee but Juan grabbed me around my waist and made me turn around again. I sighed resignedly. "Yeah, it's easy for you. _I'm_ going to be the one who'll have to scratch from the walls what's left from you."

I screwed up my eyes, clenched my teeth and turned away my head when I rang the bell.

"So you think he'll kill me?" he asked and gave a short laugh.

"Only if he's merciful," I answered nervously playing around with my hands. I hoped that for some reason no one was home but then I heard steps and a little later on the front door was opened and I saw my mother who greeted us with a smile. Mum wore an elegant trouser suit and her light pink hair was pinned up. Obviously she had just come home from work. She always looked very pretty as she had an important position in my father's company.

"Welcome home, darling," she began and then her gaze wandered over Juan. "Welcome the two of you. Do come in." She gestured us to enter and so we did. Inside Mum closed the door, gave me a short hug and a peck on each of my cheeks. "It's so good to see you again, sweetheart."

"You too," I replied without really meaning it. I was just too nervous and expected to see Daddy any second.

Mum turned to Juan and shook hands with him.

"You must me Wanda's boyfriend, Juandíssimo Magnifico. I'm Cynthia Fairywinkle," she introduced herself smiling friendly. In her job she always met lots of people and she knew how to give a positive first impression. I knew her business smile too well. I've never seen her smiling in another way.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs Fairywinkle," Juan countered. Like I had expected it there was no need to worry about my Mum's reaction. As always she behaved very friendly. Mum could make everybody feel welcome and people knew she was the perfect hostess. "That astonishing beauty runs in the family, I see."

That comment was awkward for me. I didn't like being compared to my mother, not even in a positive way. But I knew that Juan was just being the sweet person I knew and so I didn't react except for twisting my mouth for a moment. Mum chuckled.

"Sweetie, your boyfriend is a very charming person," she commented while Juan placed the suitcase in a corner.

'Yeah and it'll make his untimely death even worse,' I thought and gave a nervous smile while putting the travelling on top of the suitcase.

"Why don't you go into the living room with your boyfriend while I make some tea?" Mum suggested friendly after we had taken off our jackets. I just nodded anxiously but stopped her when she was about to enter the kitchen.

"Mum, isn't Daddy home yet?" I asked her agitatedly twirling one of my long curls around my finger.

"Not yet, darling but he should come home soon," she replied smiling and left for the kitchen.

I turned around to Juan.

"You heard that? You can still flee," I explained grabbing him at his shirt but Juan still smiled calmly.

"I do not intend to flee, honey. I'm very eager to get to know your father," he answered and gave me a swift kiss.

"Juan, I'm not joking! He's not interested in getting to know you. The only thing he's interested in is tearing you into pieces!" I warned him once more.

"Why, aren't you dramatic today, sugar," he commented and hugged me gently.

"I wish I was! I really wish I-"

"Wanda! Sweetheart!" someone interrupted me excitedly and when I looked up someone caught my eye. On top of the stairs I saw my twin sister Blonda who was wearing jeans, an flamboyant top, a lot of make-up and extravagant jewellery. She hurried downstairs and with a loud squeak like normally only immature teenage girls made it she hugged me. "There you are, sis! How have you been? How is your medical stuff going?" she asked but without expecting an answer she continued: "I have great news! You won't believe it! That role in a soap I auditioned for some months ago – I got it! I'll be on TV! _On TV_!"

She jumped for joy, took my hands wanted me to jump with her but I gave back only a disbelieving smile.

"Yeah…" I answered.

"Come on! I'm making a career! You should be happy with me!" she moaned and crossed her arms.

"But I am," I contradicted. "And I did share your happiness already when you called me, when you sent me an SMS, an e-mail and when I read your status on spacebook."

"But this is different!" she countered obviously offended. "You're such a stick-in-the-mud, sis!" Like the matter was closed she turned to Juan. "But where are my manners? You brought a guest, a very fearless guest!"

I sighed. I loved my sister but although the only superficially noticeable difference between us was our hair colour it had always been for me like she was living in her own world where I just had no space. There had always been a certain distance between us that couldn't be gotten over by telling each other what we would get for birthday or by playing with our dolls. If it was something deeper I just knew I couldn't count on my sister. I had never been able to reach her on a level, which was beyond simple fun.

"My sister hasn't scared you away yet, I see," she commented after hugging Juan briefly.

"How could such loveliness possibly scare me away?" he asked putting his arm around my waist and kissing my hair. I smiled and silently enjoyed that little moment of superiority over my sister. Instructions weren't necessary as Blonda knew Juan already but they hadn't seen each other since the night he and I had met.

Blonda had visited me back then and at that opportunity she had dragged me into several clubs. In one of them she had spotted Juan and in him she had seen her next prey. But in spite of a long conversation: In the end he had turned away from her and talked to me instead. Although she tried to hide it I knew that Blonda was still a little jealous. Not because of Juan in particular, it was a matter of principles. After all since when do I get something my sister wants? And since when doesn't Blonda get what she wants (especially if it came to men)?

"Well, anyhow. The question remains which drugs Wanda gave you to make you come here and meet our father," Blonda remarked sharply but nevertheless smiling like it was supposed to be a joke. "Tell me in the living room. The foyer isn't quite the right place for small-talk."

"Why, sure…_Blonda_,"I remarked sourly but she had left for the living room already. Actually Blonda wasn't her real name but when she had started to dye her hair in middle school she had decided to call herself like this. She still hated it if someone called her by her real name.

That Juan kissed my cheek distracted me from my annoyance. Arm in arm we walked into the living room where we sat down on the couch. A little later on Mum came with a tray in her hands and served tea and pastries.

"So, how is work in the hospital going?" Mum asked while filling our cups with tea. My gaze wandered through the room and I discovered the armchair where Daddy often sat.

"It's going…pretty well," I answered nervously playing around with my hands. By now I was an intern in my first practical year and although being a doctor was especially in the beginning very tough I learned every day and I made progress constantly.

During the conversation Blonda managed to mention four times her role in her soap opera. I had almost forgotten my concerns because of Daddy because of the nice conversation we were having.

"My parents love Wanda," Juan assured when we were talking about the meeting with his parents. "Especially my father. He even wanted to adopt her and abandon me and my brothers instead."

"But he was only joking," I commented modestly and began to play around with one of my long curls.

"I wouldn't be so sure there," he replied, which made Mum chuckle. "He's always wanted a daughter. He never misses an opportunity to tell me and my brothers that we have the wrong chromosomes."

"Your brothers…are they single?" was Blonda's first question. "I'm sure they'd like to go out with a becoming TV actress!"

While Juan answered her question I rolled my eyes but smiled briefly. The meeting was going well and both Blonda and Mum seemed to get along well with Juan and the other way around. For one moment I felt relief and I enjoyed it caressing Juan's hand holding mine.

But then it happened. When I heard a key turning at the front door I remembered the reason for my fear and it was just about to come home. My mind was feverishly thinking about a way to escape. I wanted to open the window and throw Juan through it but I was like paralysed and before I was able to save my boyfriend my father had entered the house and then the living room.

Only when Blonda gave me a nudge I realised that she and Mum were already standing up to greet him. With shaking knees I rose up as well with a little help from Juan. After a swift kiss with Mum and a short hug with Blonda who had already arrived yesterday it was my turn. In my inner my nervousness and the joy of seeing Daddy after a long time again were still fighting and caused me smile, which probably looked a little weird. Finally I fell into his arms, which embraced me tightly in the same protecting way I knew since my childhood.

"You look great, sunshine," he finally told me smiling happily and caressing my cheek.

"Oh, you always say so, Daddy," I answered nervously.

"Because it's true," he replied and I laughed briefly.

"I don't beg to differ," I heard Juan's voice reminding me again of the fact that the catastrophe I feared was now about to happen.

When my father realised who had said these words his mood changed from one second to another. He ended the hug and stepped forward so I was standing a bit behind him like something he wanted to protect. Juan stayed as calm as always when my father walked towards him examining him suspiciously.

"So, that's _you_," he remarked critically and folded his arms.

"Juandíssimo Magnifico," he introduced himself and offered his hand. After some moments Daddy took it to shake it obviously harder than necessary. While I became desperate already Juan was still calmness itself and I wanted to hit him for not being as frantic as I was.

"We should talk in confidence," my father answered harshly.

"If you wish so," Juan agreed and smiled relaxed.

"But, Daddy-," I began and stepped forward but was interrupted by my father's cold voice.

"Not now, pumpkin. I just want to clarify some things."

Juan took my hand and kissed it swiftly.

"There's no need to worry, snookie," he tried to calm me down and then turned away from me for my father had already put his hand on Juan's shoulder to push him gently but firmly in the direction of the gardens.

"This might take some time. Don't wait for us," he commanded the three of us and closed the patio door behind him.

"Oh my gosh!" I squeaked when they were gone. "What am I supposed to do? That's a disaster! I knew it! I shouldn't have given in to him!"

I ran in circles holding my head like it was about to fall down every second.

"Relax!" Blonda commented easy-going.

"Don't you see what's happening? How can you stay so calm?" I wanted to know and shook my sister.

"It's not gonna be _that_ bad, sis," she replied and freed herself from my grip.

"Blonda is right. She's got a feeling for things like this," Mum added and hugged her smiling. She was still as unconcerned as my sister. "Although your father wasn't thrilled when he saw some of your choreographies which you performed at these tournaments…"

"What?" I gasped in shock. "He saw it? That's…that's…oh god!"

Many of our dances had been at some moments a bit…well…suggestive. I knew that Daddy couldn't have been proud when he had seen them. Now he would call Juan to account and I doubted that he'd survive.

"Maybe this wasn't the best preparation for their meeting," Mum confessed patting my shoulder. "But I have to say… I didn't know you're that flexible."

"You take things too serious…as always. Why don't we have some chocolate? I know you love chocolate," Blonda suggested and moved towards the kitchen.

"But don't you remember what happened to the guy you dated at high school? I mean, have his teeth ever been found? Blonda?" I asked worriedly and sighed when I realised that my sister wasn't listening any more.

"Don't pull a face, darling. You'll get wrinkles," Mum commented and went to the kitchen as well. "You should follow your sister's advice. Have some chocolate."

I felt so powerless and I would have tried to eavesdrop on what Daddy and Juan were talking about if I hadn't had so much respect to my father. I hated that helplessness and the fact I wasn't able to do something against it. Finally I followed Blonda and Mum trying to trust their calming words.

* * *

"Wanda, should I check in the kitchen whether we have some more finger nails to chew?" Blonda questioned.

"What?" I asked and realised then that I had been biting my nails again.

One hour had passed since Blonda, Mum and I had sat down in the living room to have some chocolate. I don't remember how many pieces I had eaten but by now Mum and Blonda looked at me pretty confused when I asked for more.

"Do you think he's dead already?" I assumed and reached for another cookie. I hated my habit of eating tons of sweets when I waited for something. "Do you think it'd be tasteless to write on his gravestone 'I told you so'?"

Mum sighed and Blonda rolled her eyes. Finally after one or two or maybe fifteen more cookies I heard someone laughing and I was dumbfounded when I realised that it was my father. Only some moments later Daddy and Juan entered the living room and I was stunned when I still saw my father's hand on Juan's shoulder – not in a pushing and rough but in a fatherly and intimate way. And they both smiled. I didn't get what was going on!

"Wanda, lambkin! Why haven't you introduced your boyfriend earlier to me? I really like that guy," he told me like what he said was the most ordinary thing for him. "Your boyfriend and I had a really interesting talk…"

I didn't listen any more to what Daddy said. I tried to understand what I saw but it just didn't work. Juan winked at me when they both sat down and continued their conversation. Daddy treated him almost like his own son! I was so confused I couldn't even enjoy the fact that they got along with each other that well. I turned to my sister to whisper to her.

"Blonda, is this really happening?"

"See? I told you, you worry too much," she answered smiling.

"You think so too, right pookie?" Juandíssimo asked me and surprised I turned my head to him.

"What did you say?" I wanted to know for I hadn't been listening.

"I just told your father that we'd love to dance at the gala he will arrange in two weeks," he explained. I was confused as originally we had planned to stay for only one weekend.

"The gala?" I repeated critically. For social reasons my father gave lots of parties. You could say that's where the "fairy high society" comes together to cultivate business and non-business relations. I have never liked these parties. "But we packed for only three days."

"If you need more clothes just buy them. That's on me," Daddy assured me and patted once more proudly Juan's shoulder. "I'd love to present my future son-in-law to the people," my father confessed and as the only one in the room I laughed briefly.

"Anyway," I continued ignoring the others' confused gazes. "Don't you think we'd need a whole new choreography for this evening? Two weeks aren't much time for practising."

I knew I didn't want to perform the choreographies we already had. Some elements were just too suggestive and I wouldn't present them on my father's party.

"I'll take care of a new choreography, honey. That's no big deal," Juan dismissed my concern. "Your father would just love to see us dancing and you don't want to disappoint him, do you?"

"Of course not…" I mumbled and didn't know myself why I felt uncomfortable.

"If you dance, then I'll stay as well. I'd just love to see that show!" Blonda lied. I knew she couldn't bear the possibility that I would be in the spotlight at that gala and not her.

"That's a wonderful idea," Mum commented folding her hands. "I'm sure our guests would love to see you two dancing."

"So, it's a deal! We'll have a very special performance," my father summed up our conversation.

"By the way, boy…We don't have to stay that formal. You may call me Dad as well," he suggested to Juan.

"If you wish so…Dad," Juandíssimo replied. He continued the conversation with my parents and my sister while I remained silent hoping that I would be able to understand what was happening between them. But I didn't.

* * *

After a long conversation Juan and I brought our things upstairs into my former room. Then it was time for preparing the dinner and while Mum, Blonda and I were cooking Daddy showed my boyfriend his mansion. At dinner Daddy even let Juan sit next to him and questioned him about his family. The whole time Daddy was so thrilled by my boyfriend that I pinched myself now and then to be sure that I wasn't dreaming. After eating we went into the living room again and still the good mood between Juan and my family was unbroken. At about 10 p.m. I dropped first hints that it's been a long journey and that Juan and I were tired but only 30 minutes later when my father decided that it was late all of us began to withdraw for today.

When we reached my former room I flopped onto the couch and took a rest from that very strange thing that had happened today while Juan changed his clothes and brushed his teeth in the bathroom connected to my room. After some time I gave a heavy sigh and then stood up. I turned to the open suitcase and took a T-Shirt and a pair of pyjama pants out of it.

"Juan?" I called opening my jeans, slipping them off and throwing them on the chair in front of my desk . "Seriously…how did you do this?"

"What?" he asked from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. Meanwhile I was taking off my blouse and my bra and threw them onto my jeans.

"You know what I mean. Getting along with Daddy that well. I mean, of course I'm relieved but I'm wondering what you did to my real father," I explicated while I slipped on my pyjama pants and my T-shirt.

Juandíssimo walked from the bathroom towards me just wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts.

"I just told him the truth," he answered having a stretch. "That I love you."

"I don't think that this was the only necessary thing to convince him," I doubted, lay down on my stomach on the couch again and grabbed for a medical magazine in the suitcase.

"Well, you shouldn't think, sugar," he dismissed my idea, sat down right next to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "You should relax."

I wanted to answer but my words drowned in a deep-drawn sigh when he started massaging my tensed up muscles.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed how his hands took away the stress that I had had to bear the last days. One reason why I loved him so much was his ability to give me a break from the whole world, some moments at which I knew it was just him and me and nothing else.

"You've _really_ been worrying," he commented the state of my back.

"Well, I thought you'd die, you know?" I answered. I had wanted to sound more serious but in the face of his hands massaging me my voice had a quite relaxed tone.

"How can I make up for this?" he asked kissing my neck and I felt his warm breath on my skin.

"You're right at it," I whispered although I knew I would have said something else if I hadn't been enjoying the way he touched me so much.

I felt his hands running underneath my T-shirt and how they eased all tension in my body. Lost in thought I let my hand run through the contents of the suitcase lying right next to the couch. My relaxation was interrupted when I found my old, brown and fluffy teddy bear.

"Look, it's Mister Cookie," I remarked and sat up. "I should give him a more comfortable place to sleep."

After adjusting my T-shirt I stood up and walked towards the shelf, which was pretty empty since I had moved out.

"As long as he doesn't watch us at what we're doing in bed," Juan commented and made me chuckle. After I had found Mister Cookie a spot where he could sleep and didn't see us in bed I turned to Juan again and stretched out my hands.

"I really happen to be tired. Let's go to sleep," I suggested tiredly. Juan took my hands but made it hard for me to pull him upright. After playing for a little while I finally made him stand up and after walking some steps to my bed I gently pushed him onto it.

"Why, aren't you a saucy little minx," Juan jested when I sat down astride on him, both of us smiling seductively. I bent down and kissed him gently and the longer our lips played with each other the more passion grew between us. Instead of going further I sat up again and looked down at my boyfriend and his well-formed body. Biting my lower lip I let my hands run over his shoulders, his chest and his stomach. He touched my hips and when I looked in his eyes again I saw that he knew what I was thinking. But then I sighed sadly.

"You know…although my father seems to like you…one squeak of the bedstead and he will come over to kill you," I reminded him but Juan shrugged his shoulders.

"I'd die happy," he replied simply, which made me chuckle.

"Did I ever tell you that you're an idiot?" I asked bending down to him again.

"Only a million times," he countered. "And mostly it's accompanied by a kiss…"

"Really?" I questioned but already placing my lips on his. "I seem to have a thing for idiots."

"Good for me," he commented, wrapped his arms around me and one moment later he turned around so I was lying on my back and he in top of me.

I enjoyed our togetherness with all my heart and I sighed with relish when his kisses wandered over my neck and my chest. After some time Juan stopped and when I opened my eyes again I realised that he was looking at me with a happy but thoughtful smile on his face.

"What?" I asked sweetly and caressed his shoulder.

He seemed to think about his words for a moment.

"You're beautiful," he finally answered and from his voice I knew that he wasn't only talking about outward appearances. Modestly I looked down but I couldn't help but smiling shyly. I knew that he had known already many women before me and that most of these women looked like supermodels. At the same time I knew that I couldn't be added to that category but he had always assured me that I was prettier than all these superficial, phoney girls would ever be altogether.

"Thank you," I whispered back but still without looking at him.

"And…you know," he continued timidly and cleared his throat. He turned his head to the side and I knew the gaze on his face. Everybody knew him as the charming Casanova he always played and I could surely confirm that he was not a shy person. He had no problem with approaching others or complementing women or talking about his outward appearance. But when it came to really deep feelings he was so shy and sweet and a little clumsy. "I'm a very…very lucky man," he answered and a short, insecure laugh escaped from his lips like he was afraid that I couldn't take him seriously. "Because…because I got you."

Gently I caressed his lips.

"I'm very lucky too," I whispered tenderly.

I pulled him closer to myself and pressed my lips against his. I didn't know how long we kissed. I forgot time. I was lost in these wonderful feelings only he could give me.

"Juan?" I began when he let his lips wander over my neck.

"Yes, my beautiful mistress who you're having a hunk of a man between your pretty thighs?" he answered and I chuckled. Now he had returned to his easy-going and funny self that always made me laugh.

"Do you think we will do it?" I finally asked lying in his arms that embraced me and looking into his purple eyes. "I mean arranging a whole new choreography in two weeks."

"It'll be close…," he admitted. "But rely on me. I could create a whole new choreography for you whenever it's necessary."

"Good to know," I whispered and kissed him.

He pressed his body against mine and soon we wrapped our arms tightly around each other, lost in our kiss. I wished it would never end.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promised looking up for a short moment. "We'll handle that choreography, be the stars at that gala and have a great evening. Believe me."

"I do," I assured smiling. He bent down again and continued our wonderful, tender kiss, which I enjoyed so much.

I didn't know yet that Juandíssimo would be wrong. Terribly wrong.


	2. I'm getting betrayed

_It makes me sad to watch how Wanda and Juan's relationship is slowly breaking. I think if Big Daddy had hated Juan they'd never have broken up. (Sorry Cosmo. #lol#) Oh well, enjoy chapter 2!_

* * *

**Chapter 2: I'm getting betrayed**

One week had passed since my boyfriend and my parents had met for the first time.

Meanwhile Daddy prepared everything for the gala, invited everyone who was worth it, chose the right journalists to report and assigned more tasks. Everyone obeyed his command – as always.

As usual Mum assisted him in all the occurring tasks and carried out his instructions in her constant perfection. Other than that she spent most of her time with Blonda chatting about clothes, make-up and other superficial things. They had always gotten along with each other very well because they both liked talking about such shallow stuff. I didn't.

Besides Blonda got together with many old friends of hers and invited them as well. At the gala she wanted to spread the news that she had finally gotten a role in a TV series. Of course she had to tell it to a crowd which was as big as possible. And of course she had to make sure that _she_ was in the spotlight at the gala and not me.

Meanwhile Juan and I studied the new choreography he had created. Besides he had arranged a strict training schedule for we didn't have much time until the gala took place. But we were doing well and didn't worry.

Actually I didn't have to worry about anything. My father and Juan got along with each other better than I had ever imaged, he had no problem with Mum as well, Blonda and Juan seemed to develop some kind of friendship and my parents were proud of Blonda for becoming a TV actress. Absolutely everything was fine…wasn't it?

When there had been only seven days left we had been invited to another party. It couldn't be compared to what Daddy would be giving in one week but my father had taught me to take also those events serious, which didn't seem worth it.

After almost seven hours of training we had decided to take a bath before leaving. We would arrive later than the others anyway. Juan had been massaging me while we had enjoyed the well smelling bubble bath.

I was just wearing a white towel wrapped around my body when I left the bathroom. In my former room I found Juan in front of the TV watching some sitcom. He was just wearing his pants and socks.

"Shall I take the purple or the green one?" I asked holding two cocktail dresses in my hands. They weren't mine but Blonda's. (Unlike her I didn't take my entire wardrobe wherever I went.) Until some years ago I hadn't been able to wear Blonda's clothes since her size had been smaller and she had always liked dropping hints in that matter. But since Juan and I had started dancing I had lost a lot of weight and when I had tried on some clothes of hers earlier that day I had confronted her with the fact that her dresses were around the waist a little too loose and around the chest a little too tight for me. I had grinned with gloating when I had seen her face…

"Purple" he replied focusing the TV.

"All right," I countered chuckling, put the green one on the bed and turned to the mirror. "I do like that colour. It reminds me of a certain someone."

"Who could that be?" he jested looking over his shoulder and I could see his eyes in the mirror.

I held the purple cocktail dress with the black straps in front of my body.

"Why aren't you wearing your shirt?" I asked after turning around to him.

"Don't know where you put it," he answered without looking at me but at the TV. After the decision had been made that we'd stay for about two weeks I had put the clothes we had brought inside the wardrobe. Juan had considered it as unnecessary – typically men!

I put away the dress, opened a drawer and bent forward to look for his shirt.

"Further," I heard his voice after some seconds of searching. After standing up straight I realised what he had meant and adjusted my towel around my butt.

"You!" I huffed and went to the couch where he sat to throw one of the pillows at him. Yet I couldn't help but smiling.

"Come on, sugar…don't be shy," he replied grinning after catching the pillow.

"You always say so! If it were up to you I'd run around naked the whole day," I answered and opened the chest of drawers near the bed.

"What would be so bad about it?" he countered. "I'd do the same for you. And you know you wouldn't dislike it. Actually…" He leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. "No one would. I mean, look at me. I'm…a god."

I started laughing like I often did when he talked like that.

"You're an idiot. That's what you are," I corrected him chuckling.

"Now, look at my biceps, look at my stomach muscles," he demanded while I finally found his shirt.

"Here's your shirt," I answered bringing the same to him. "I know you love your body but you should get dressed now."

"Yeah, but you must admit that I'm very, very sexy," he replied taking the shirt.

"Yeah, you are," I agreed sighing. "I'm sure one day you'll rip your shirt because you're too sexy."

"That could actually happen," he commented still with a gaze like he really believed what he was saying. The crap he said always made me laugh because he presented it so seriously that sometimes I was about to believe it as well.

"I'm getting dressed," I finally decided and left for the bathroom taking my purple dress with me.

"Shame," he commented.

* * *

I got dressed, bound my hair together to a long pigtail, put on my make up and slipped into my black pumps. After doing so I went back to Juan who was actually wearing his shirt, a purple tie and a black blazer by now.

"How do I look?" I asked him and turned around.

"Very pretty," he answered smirking. "But not as pretty as naked."

I smiled and took my coat and my purse.

"Would you stop talking about being naked now?" I asked him while he helped me getting on my coat.

"I'm a god, remember, my sweet?"

"You're an idiot," I countered chuckling and sealed that comment with a kiss.

* * *

Juan drove my black car to the place where the party took place. After parking the car and entering the villa, Juan took my coat. I linked my arm with him and we walked into the main hall. The party seemed to be going really well. We were arriving a bit later because of our training but nevertheless we were welcomed in a very nice way. Obviously Daddy, Blonda and Mum had already described us to everyone as the "perfect couple" and people seemed to share that opinion. How flattering…right?

Although it was the first time Juan was confronted with the social circles I had grown up with everyone accepted him. I was surprised because for people who weren't born into that society it's very hard to earn respect. Everybody seemed to succumb to his charms, even those people of who I had never expected that they would. I knew I should have been happy about that fact.

"We'd like to have number seven and red wine with it," Juan ordered when the dinner began. We were sitting with six other people at a round table of which there were more than ten in the whole hall. At the other end of the room I had already seen Blonda and my parents.

"Wanda, this dance you will present in a week," a lady across from me began. Her name was Priscilla and she was a very important business partner of my father. She knew me already since I was a child. "Is it going to be very special?"

"Well…we do our best," I answered shortly. After almost seven hours of dance training I was even less willed to pretend a nice conversation than else. In Priscilla's presence I was even more unmotivated for I had never liked her. She always asked things which were none of her business and didn't even realise it.

"We don't want to tell too much," Juan added. "But every choreography has to be special. If it weren't, how could you perform it with _pasión_? It's what makes a dance come alive. That's what we always try to do."

"Beautifully said!" Priscilla answered and her eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm. "Oh Wanda, you're lucky to have such a sensitive man at your side. I'm sure you're envied by so many women!" She glanced venomously at her husband next to her. "Including me."

"I know," I replied sighing. Although these words came from the pretty annoying Priscilla it was clear to me they were true. Still I had heard them so often this evening that they were beginning to annoy me.

"I saw you when you danced in the final at that championship and I have to say that it was just impressing," a young man added. His name was Ritchie and I also knew him from previous parties. He was a clingy and nerdy person with a squeaky voice.

"That was actually the hardest piece we ever had to create and study," Juan told the others and everyone was listening carefully. "It took us more than a month until we had something like a sketch…"

I zoned out for I knew how hard we had had to work until we had finished the final choreography for the tournament. I didn't even consider listening to add something to the story he was telling or even to explicate it together with him. I didn't know whether it was just because of the exhausting hours of training I had endured or because of the people sitting with us who I despised.

I knew that most of the people who I didn't like, felt the same for me. When I had come here with Juan I had expected that we would…share the same 'enemies'. Now it seemed like everyone liked him, also those who I had never gotten along well with. I knew it was stupid but I couldn't help but feeling…betrayed.

I rolled my eyes when he flirted a little with a brunette woman who had come over to our table. By now we had finished the dinner. People ordered only drinks or small desserts and began to go around to have a conversation with everyone who was important enough. Mostly I tried to keep away from that part of a party. I was happy that although I was my father's daughter I wasn't that involved with the relationships of the high society. But this evening everyone wanted to get to know Juan and at his side I had to bear every person who came over to ask the same questions.

Many of these people were women. It was pretty obvious why they came. Characteristic of him he smiled at them and paid them compliments so they felt ravished by him. In the beginning of our relationship I had been jealous when he had done this but by now I knew that he would never go further or even cheat on me. I trusted him. Actually…it may sound sadistic but I enjoyed a little bit how so many women raised hopes, which would be going to be dashed because the only one he really felt something for was me.

When he had finally gotten rid of that brunette girl he turned to me. I only saw him from the corner of my eyes but after he had watched me daydreaming for more than a minute I focused on him.

"What?" I asked folding my arms. I couldn't hide that I was annoyed but I didn't want to blame him by snubbing.

"Let's dance, honey," he answered.

"But…I have been dancing for seven hours today," I replied hoping that he had been kidding.

"It's just a Blues. Come on, snookie," he countered smiling and took my hand to get up. Before I knew it I was standing as well and went with him to the dance floor.

Although I hadn't wanted to dance I already felt better when I put my arms around him and we began to do the simple basic dance steps. On the dance floor nobody would disturb us or ask questions. I didn't' have to pretend being nice. Again he had separated me from everything that was annoying me. I sighed.

"How do you do this?" I asked putting my chin on his shoulder.

"What?"

"You always know what I need…and you always give it to me. Sometimes I think you know me better than I do," I explicated.

"Maybe I do," he whispered kissing gently my hair.

I wasn't sensing yet what he really meant.

* * *

After we had danced I felt relaxed enough to have some nice conversations. With Juan at my side I even endured some of the most annoying people I knew and didn't wish to torture them.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally noticed that we had talked to every person at the party long enough to carry my social duties. I was optimistic that now we could steal away but my joy found a sudden end when I felt my sister hugging me from behind.

"Here you are, sweetheart!" she began and I turned around. "Do you remember Sheila? She said she hasn't met Juan yet and as I just saw you…"

"Oh, really…" I answered dully realising that my sister had ended my good feeling by her selfish will of making me spend time with a person of who she knew I despised her. Sheila was a red-haired girl in our age who loved nothing more than talking. And she knew only one topic: others. I mean, who doesn't badmouth from time to time but if everything coming out of your mouth are dirty words about the clothes, style and behaviour of others I seriously wonder what's wrong with that person. I suppose I would have pitied Sheila if she hadn't driven me nuts!

I wasn't jealous when Juan also made friends with Sheila. I was angry that he dared to feel something else than antipathy for someone like her. I hated to watch how he got along with her that well but I would have hated it more if I had left them alone. Finally I saw my parents in the crowd and thus an excuse to ask Juan to get away from damned Sheila.

"Are you two having fun?" my father asked when we had reached him and Mum. They had their arms linked just like Juan and I and for one very awkward and disturbing moment it was like I saw our reflection. Quickly I shook my head to loose that thought again.

"Of course, pretty much," Juan answered immediately.

"Of course," I repeated without meaning it.

"Great!" my father replied ignoring the resigned tone of my voice.

"The Sullivans seem to have made every imaginable effort concerning the decoration," Mum commented in her usual sweet and friendly voice.

Daddy turned to Juan.

"Listen, boy. There are some people you should get to know. Most of them are business partners but…"

'More people…!' I thought in frustration. The imagination of the party Daddy would be giving in one week deprived me already. There would be even more people and I'd have to play the role of a hostess, take care of everybody having fun although I'd be wishing desperately to get away.

"Honey, you should go back to Blonda while I meet these people. I'm sure that's perfectly all right," Juan ended my thoughts gently.

"Of course, lambkin. You don't have to come with us if you don't want to," my father answered and took a gulp of champagne. "You'd be bored anyway."

"Yes, darling. Let's leave the men alone," Mum added in her artificial voice. "I'm sure they want to be among their own kind for some time. Let's search Blonda, wherever she goes at such parties there's a lot of fun."

"Well…" I began uncertainly. It was true that I didn't want to meet even more people. But still I wanted to endure this evening with Juan, not matter how annoyed I was. I couldn't say what was going through my mind but I faked a smile and lied to them. "I'm sure you're right." I gave Juan a swift kiss before I left with Mum. "See you later."

* * *

After having been unintentionally separated from my boyfriend I wanted to go a corner where I could be alone. But as soon as she had spotted us Blonda came over to Mum and me and whenever I tried to leave another of their shallow conversations my sister pulled me back and demanded that I'd stay. After some minutes of their superficial chit-chat Priscilla came over to us and told Mum that she and some other would like to ask her some questions about the upcoming gala in one week. She asked Blonda and me if we'd like to join them but we rejected it politely and so Mum and Priscilla left together.

For one moment I hoped that I now had a chance to get away without anyone noticing it. ButBlonda decided to stay with me and as always at parties she was surrounded by at least four people and mostly I didn't like those. I didn't know how I bore the time in that company. But I exactly remember how relieved I was when I realised that it was almost midnight and that many guests began to leave the party.

"I'm afraid I should go now too," I finally announced.

"Wanda, it's not even late yet!" Doug – one of Blonda's friends – countered.

"You know that the real party is only just beginning," Blonda added raising the cocktail in her hand. She and the others at the table wanted to leave for another party soon, one with more alcohol and less inhibitions.

"That sounds nice and all but I can't train with a hangover, you know?" I explained and got up from the table we were sitting around when Sheila came over to us. She was staggering and giggling.

"Wanda, where are you going?" she slurred trying to support herself on one of the chairs.

"She wants to leave us!" Blonda accused me and got up clumsily.

"So, where's your boyfriend, where's…" she began but stopped to go on smiling and with a voice like she had discovered something unbelievable. "Wait…don't tell me that _you_ are deciding this!"

Sheila burst out in laughter and everyone else who had heard her started laughing as well.

"Pardon me?" I asked confusedly.

My sister put her arm around me, obviously because she couldn't stand on her own any more.

"Pumpkin, don't listen to them. They're just jealous," Blonda told me. She tried to sound professional but the alcohol influencing her voice was clearly noticeable.

"I suppose so," I agreed, freed myself from my sister and finally walked away. But even then I couldn't forget what Sheila had said.

* * *

Soon I found Mum in the crowd and asked her where my father and my boyfriend were. Like she had told me I went upstairs to look for the balcony. I was adjusting my meanwhile a little dishevelled hair and my purple cocktail dress while walking through the empty halls. It didn't take much time until I found the glass door, which connected the corridor to the balcony. The two backs I saw outside were probably my father's and Juan's. Before I entered the balcony I stopped for a moment in front of the ajar door to remove a fluff from my hair. While doing so I heard Daddy and my boyfriend talking.

"Aren't that a bit too many rooms?" Juan asked.

"Only the best is good enough for my sunshine," my father replied breathing out the smoke of his cigar. "And my grand-children of course."

I had wanted to go outside but what they were talking about confused me and I stopped again. Rooms? Were they talking about a house? Why? I already had one, a small but cosy one in the town where I lived. I had gotten it when I had moved out after finishing school. Grandchildren? Oh no…what was my father dreaming of? I didn't want to be involved in a discussion about that topic and leaned against the wall next to the door where they couldn't see me.

"By the way," my father added. "I want at least three of them."

I looked down and facepalmed. Although I didn't take part in the conversation I felt terribly embarrassed. I had always avoided conversations about topics like that. I had never wanted to talk about getting married, having children and other things concerning my future to my family. It had always been awkward to me.

"Well…" Juan began. I didn't want to imagine how embarrassed he felt and folded my hands for a silent prayer. "As much as I love her we'll have at least ten."

"What?" I wanted to shout but afterwards I was glad my voice had failed and I had only moved my lips. Still, in panic I put my hands on my mouth like I had screamed.

"So, shall I buy you a castle?" my father countered and they both laughed. "And you really think you could make Wanda move into a house I bought for you two?"

"I know she can be stubborn but I think I could argue her out of her…_ideas,_" my boyfriend answered self-confidently.

I knew what he was referring to. I had once told him that I didn't want to live forever in a house my father had paid, in a _present_. Yet I couldn't afford buying one on my own and when I had moved out I hadn't been able to do so either. Daddy hadn't wanted me to live in a "puny" apartment and I hadn't wanted to refuse my father's well-meant gift.

"I perfectly know how to subdue her when she protests. After all it would be the best for us…and for our future children. Isn't that how a family should work?" Juan continued and I heard how my father probably gave him a pat on the back.

"I'm so looking forward to finally calling you my son-in-law," my father confessed in a tone I had rarely heard in my life. He sounded proud. "Wanda needs a man at her side who is exactly like you. Someone _I _also can rely on."

"You can," Juan promised. "In one week I'll be calling her my fiancé."

"I can't wait until that evening" my father replied. "First you'll impress everyone with your new choreography and then I'll announce your engagement."

"With a little help from you, Cynthia and Blonda everything's going to run like a clockwork" my boyfriend predicted.

They went on talking but I didn't hear it any more. Like in trance my legs brought me away from that balcony, downstairs where I ignored Priscilla and Doug who tried to talk to me and went outside. I walked until the noise of the party was quiet enough so I could be sure to be alone.

When I was standing on the grass in the dark I realised I had no idea why my legs had brought me here. Like that fact was the last straw I sank down on my knees. My body was shaking and I clenched two bunches of wet grass with my hands.

I didn't want to believe what I had heard. Especially I didn't want to believe who had said these words. How could they? How could they plan my life like that? Engagement? Marriage? Children? In my life planning all these things were still so far away and now that my father and Juan had decided it they were suddenly there? What about my opinion? Didn't it matter to them at all? Hadn't they thought about it for at least one second? Was I so unimportant? Did they have the right of planning my entire life?

The worst thing was that I knew that they were still talking like that, in the same moment I was sitting out here and felt tears running down my face. What they had said echoed inside my head and I put my hands on my ears hoping I could hush my thoughts. That ignorance! That terrible ignorance! It made me so angry I wanted to destroy something and at the same time it was like these words had already destroyed me.

I wanted to scream but my voice was too weak because I was crying so hard.

Desperately I tried to supress what had happened.

I didn't want it to be true.

They loved me, didn't they?

So why should they ignore me like that?

Why should they talk about me like I was a pet?

They hadn't meant it, had they?

There were thousands of questions inside my head and I didn't know an answer to any of them. I didn't understand what was happening with me. It all seemed so wrong to me and all I could do was crying.


	3. I hold my life in chains

****_BOOM! The Bloodthirsty Muffin has risen from the dead and is now a fan-fiction writing zombie! Ehm, no, not really. But that sounds more interesting than: My life has been VERY chaotic the last months and it still is. So many changes here on FF:net. I made something like a logo for the bookcovers with a B and an M!_

_"The B stands for Bloodthirsty and the M for Muffin." - Captain Obvious_

* * *

**Chapter 3: I hold my life in chains**

I've always had to follow lots of rules. Being my father's daughter also meant lots of commitments. Society had always had an unwanted strong influence on me. I never wanted to be a shame for my father. I never rebelled against him or the commitments I had in the position of being part of an eminently respected family. If I had ever rebelled I would also have harmed my father. I have always been aware of the important position he had in fairy world. The mischief I would have done by rebelling had been so much worse than it had been in many other people's situation…

Though I knew all this I hadn't ever spent much time on thinking about that. Don't we all have our cross to bear? But now my whole life seemed so wrong to me and I had no idea how to fix it.

"Ouch!"

We were rehearsing our choreography in the garden and I had fallen over again. Rubbing my arm I sat up and tried to control my breath. Juan stepped towards me.

"That's probably the 20th time you fall over today. What the heck is wrong with you, honey?" he asked breathlessly and turned off the music.

There were only two days left until the gala took place, until we would perform our new choreography. And of course until the announcement of my engagement and the new house my father had probably already bought for us and the fact where and when my wedding would be celebrated and which names my children would have and – oh, I don't know, maybe then I'd be told that I was pregnant already!

After the party some days ago, there had happened…well, nothing. My father and Juan didn't know that I had heard them planning my future. I had done what I always did when I there was a problem within family – nothing. Why should I ever have done anything? Would it have changed anything? What was my opinion worth it? When there were problems my father handled them. And problems were only problems if my father could solve them. Everything else was unimportant. Also things concerning me.

"Nothing's wrong," I lied harshly and got up ignoring the hand he had stretched out to me.

Since I had eavesdropped on them I had tried to pretend that everything was like always. But I felt annoyed by almost everything and behaved according to this. I also felt annoyed by myself and the fact that I didn't get the choreography into my head. I especially screwed up moves at which I had to hold on to his hand with all my weight.

I preferred falling to trusting him holding me.

"Snookie, I know that there's something going on with you," he continued sensitively.

Some days ago I had loved the fact that he paid so much attention to me and my demeanour. Now it was just a nuisance.

"Then you know more than I do," I answered and only some moments later I realised how true my words were. I exactly knew why I felt how I did but I couldn't explain myself why I didn't do anything against it. Something inside me stopped me from taking him to task and I seriously wondered what.

* * *

"For crying out loud…" I mumbled later that day when I heard someone knocking on my door.

After our training I had gone to my former room hoping to have some peace and quiet while Juan talked about something with Daddy. But no matter where I went these days there was always someone there, whether it was my father, my mother, my sister, my boyfriend or servants who prepared already everything for the gala.

Restoring calm again was nearly impossible and if I tried to go somewhere else I was immediately asked why I wanted to leave. I couldn't think of a lie that'd make them let me go alone and the truth was no option.

"Yes, please," I finally answered. Blonda entered and jumped childishly onto my bed where I lay, trying to think.

"Pumpkin, Eduardo has finally arrived! He's bringing our dresses!" Blonda announced happily and tried to pull me up.

"There's no need to make it a big deal," I replied and didn't attempt to hide my annoyance. In presence of my sister I didn't have to fear that I would be asked questions about my mood. No one could ignore my emotional state better than my sister.

"Are you nuts? We had to fear they wouldn't arrive on time," Blonda reminded me and made me stand up after all to almost run with her downstairs into the living room where Eduardo – a very famous and popular designers in fairy world – waited. He apologised for bringing our dresses that late but I didn't care about his reasons and Blonda just wanted to try on her new dress.

A little later on Mum joined us with her hair pinned up and a silver necklace with a little heart-shaped pendant attached to it. I rolled my eyes when he complimented her by saying that Blonda and I looked rather like her sisters than her daughters. It was a sentence Blonda and I had heard often already since our teenage years and I knew that thanks to her skills and knowledge concerning make-up, cleansing and anti-aging products she did look younger than she actually was.

Now that I thought about it I knew that the tailored dresses should have made me suspicious even before I had heard Juan and Daddy talking. We had often bought new dresses for that yearly gala but they had never been made-to-measure.

After changing I looked at myself in the mirror and at the white, knee-length dress I was wearing. It had been Blonda who had chosen the strapless dress. There were small gemstones at the neckline and the hem, which were purple and pink because they went well Juan's eyes and mine.

Blonda stepped next to me wearing almost the same dress but her gemstones were light to dark pink. She hugged me briefly and smiled.

"We almost look like twins!" she told me.

"Blonda, we _are_ twins," I informed her but she had already turned to Eduardo while I still examined myself. I knew I was wearing a beautiful and very expensive dress. The cloth was of very high quality and had fine embroidery, which formed a pretty, decent pattern and was accentuated by the gemstones. I knew it took a lot of work, patience and passion to create a piece like this.

Yet I didn't feel comfortable. I knew that I would be wearing it when my whole future would be announced. No one would be caring about how I felt. Everyone would only see my wonderful dress.

It was then when also Mum returned to the room wearing her dress. It was white as well but a little longer, backless and cut differently. The dress looked beautiful on her like nearly every dress did. Whatever she wore she did it with some kind of perfection which was nearly…unnatural.

"Mum, these dresses are simply fantastic!" Blonda announced and playfully turned in circles. When she came to a stop she was standing in front of me crossing my arms. But in spite of my disapproving posture and annoyed gaze Blonda pinched my cheeks like I was returning her childish smile. "Very special dresses for a very special night!"

Mum chuckled sweetly. Inwardly I was furious that everyone around me knew about the planning of my whole life. The only one who wasn't supposed to know anything about it was me. After all it was just _my_ life, right? No one had less to do with that than me.

"That is very true, Blonda, darling," Mum agreed and then turned to her favourite daughter. "I do love that pattern of your dress."

While they were sunk into one more of their meaningless and artificial conversations about nothing I withdrew into a corner and thoughtfully took some sips from my cup of tea.

"Eduardo have you also brought the jewellery?" Blonda asked cheerfully and he said yes.

Only ten minutes after we had sat down I was surrounded by some of the probably most expensive necklaces, bracelets earrings, hair slides and rings in fairy world. Everything around me was sparkling and while Blonda enjoyed picking the most magnificent pieces I was satisfied with some hair slides and a pair of ear studs.

I wasn't in the mood for things, which brightened, up my outward appearance. I was way too busy with my inner. While Blonda chose her dream jewellery with a little help from Eduardo I got up to go to the window. On the windowsill a small box with knick-knacks caught my eye. I rummaged around in it and found a light green ribbon. I didn't know why but seeing that ribbon made me feel good. I wanted to keep it and bound it around my wrist.

"Don't tell me that you really want to wear this. It doesn't match your outfit at all," Blonda remarked critically when I had sat down again.

"I know and I don't care. I like it," I answered without looking at her. During the following pause she indignantly gasped for air.

"Well, you can't just wear whatever you want on that evening," she countered sharply. I rolled my eyes for I knew that this wasn't about fashion or that evening. Blonda just couldn't stand that I didn't dance to her tune.

"Well, darling," Mum began sweetly. "I think what Blonda is trying to say is that this green ribbon really doesn't fit in. Why don't you take this pretty thing?"

She showed me a sparkling diamond bracelet but I didn't consider taking it for one second.

"No, thanks," I replied coolly. Blonda huffed and crossed her arms.

"Well, then let her make a fool out of herself," she commented tartly and I felt myself getting angry.

"I just don't think that everything has to fit in perfectly," I remarked trying to sound just as sharp.

Although Mum, my sister and Eduardo told me more than three times that this ribbon wouldn't match I ignored them. No bracelet, no matter how expensive and full of gems it was, should replace my green ribbon.

* * *

I didn't know why I guarded that ribbon like a treasure. Whenever I looked at it I forgot about the fact that my whole life was already arranged. That green thing gave me something like hope. But unfortunately I was very easily separated from my pleasant thoughts for I never stayed alone with my ribbon for a long time.

"Pookie, come to bed," Juan demanded with a soft voice. "It's late already."

"I don't think so," I answered although I knew he was right.

I lay on the couch in the living room and although there was nothing on TV I watched already for more than two hours. I only needed a reason not to talk to anyone so I could suppress the fact that by now there were less than 24 hours left until the gala began. I had still remained silent about what was going through my mind.

"We need to be well-rested for tomorrow. I will tell you how beautiful you are…and you'll tell me how handsome I am. I could massage you if you want to," he proposed and leaned over the back of the couch to caress my arm.

"But I don't want to," I replied sharply.

I pretended focusing the screen until he finally walked away, obviously resigned by my constant rejection and his own inability to reach me.

"Good night," he wished me before he closed the door behind him and left me alone in the room, which was only lightened up by the TV.

"Just get out…" I mumbled. I wished he wouldn't have treated me that tenderly. It would have been easy to attack someone who was always as ignorant as I had seen him back then. But I also knew that sensitive side he had, which would carry me to the end of the world, which had been so patient with me whenever I had shown my difficult side. I didn't know which side of him was the true one and they weren't compatible with each other.

I sighed and looked at my green ribbon wishing it would bring me away from here.

* * *

Back then my hair was very long. It reached to my elbows and I had taken good care of it, so it shimmered in its natural pink colour shade. I was proud of it because it had taken a lot of patience but it had been worth it. I was paid many compliments for my beautiful hair and especially Juan liked it.

But when I sat in front of the mirror in my bathroom I was just annoyed for my today very rebellious hair just wasn't in the right place. Blonda was of course gotten ready by Mum, the leading authority concerning hair, make-up and clothes. I could have asked her as well but I didn't want anyone to fiddle with my hair. Besides Mum probably had her hands full with the wishes of her favourite daughter anyhow.

There were only two hours left until the first guests arrived. How long would it take until they announced my engagement?

"Gosh, darn it!" I cursed when I removed once more all the elastic bands and slides from my hair to start again.

Last night I had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room and now my whole body was terribly tensed up. Almost every move I made hurt awfully. Juan had suggested massaging me but I had refused it. I wished I could have accused him of not caring but he did. It was me who wasn't able to talk about the problem.

A timid knock on the door announced Mum's appearance.

"Yes, please?" I resignedly answered removing the last slide and thereby slightly pulling my hair. "Ou!"

One second later the door was opened and Mum entered. She was already wearing her dress for this evening and her hair and he make-up were perfect. Perfect. As always.

"You're not ready yet, sweetheart?" she asked and I gave another strained sigh. I was definitely not in the mood for answering unnecessary questions. "Do you need help?"

Impatiently I tapped my fingertips against the surface of the vanity, my eyes focussing the green ribbon around my wrist. I thought about Mum's second question in a very different way than she had meant it.

"I guess, I do," I replied after a deep sigh. One moment later Mum stepped behind me and carefully removed her bracelets and rings to put them on the surface of the vanity.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked friendly and took the brush lying next to all the slides.

"I don't really care," I gave back grumpily. "I just want it pinned up."

I didn't know whether to be soothed by Mum's gentle hands or to be even more annoyed by the fact that she behaved like always while my mind was a pure chaos. For me everything was anything else than perfect and Mum was the epitome of perfection.

"If you have headaches I could give you a medicine for it," she suggested while pinning up my curls to the back of my head.

"Mum…" I began suddenly without paying any attention to her actual statement. I should have known that it was pointless to hope for her help in a matter that was not superficial. "How do you know you're making a mistake?"

For a moment she stopped combing my hair, obviously confused by a question so out of place and so non-shallow. But then she continued preparing my hair and attached a slide to my curls.

"That is a very strange question," she replied sweetly. I rolled my eyes. Why couldn't she just answer me?

"How do you know you're making a mistake?" I repeated impatiently. Mum stopped again, this time thinking about a real answer. Even her smile disappeared for a moment, making her sky-blue eyes look awkwardly sad. For one moment I thought that behind these unhappy eyes there might be a story she had never told anybody.

"I honestly don't know," she gave back so neutrally I had never heard her before. "I wish I did. Really."

Resignedly I bit my lower lip. Why didn't she know? Aren't mothers supposed to be mature enough to answer such questions? My right hand clung to the green ribbon around my left wrist, making my muscles tense up even more. Meanwhile Mum continued preparing my hair but I didn't care what she was exactly doing.

"Why don't you know?" I blurted out without thinking. "We all make tons of mistakes! Shouldn't people figure out at some point how not to make them?"

Mum's smile still hadn't returned, which was strange since I had barely seen her not smiling in my life. It also gave me something like hope to get a real answer from her. Foolish, foolish hope.

"We probably should," Mum countered, her gaze wandering through the room, maybe forgetting who she was talking to. "But that's not how life goes. It's not like you can classify everything into black and white. I'd be nice if it were that easy. But it's not. Unfortunately not…"

For one moment I even forgot my own sorrows and I was curious as to what experiences these sad words were based on for I knew: Those were not the words of a woman who smiled the entire day because she was happy.

I was about to ask another question and opened my lips but before I could say one word Mum's smile returned, cutting off everything that was only a little deep.

"You're finished," she announced, added some hairspray and then left for my bathroom to wash her hands. "By the way, your father wants to see you."

I listened only half-heartedly and still watched her in the mirror, stood up and wondered about asking her again but everything concerning my mother became unimportant when I looked into the gardens below my windows.

Everything was already prepared for tonight. Around the great fountain about 20 round, white tables and chairs were arranged. From there it wasn't far to the extensive buffet. Near the chairs and tables there was a small stage for the band, which would provide music as a background to the party. In front of the band was the dance floor where Juan and I would present our new choreography. The scene was already completely set. I only wondered where I'd be standing when my engagement would be announced…

Time was running out. _The_ moment drew closer and closer and I felt like the last hours of my life were about to pass. I felt cornered like a hunted animal and I was mad at those who had brought me into that situation more than ever. At the same time I forced myself to suppress all my feelings for I would never have allowed myself to interfere with Daddy's plans.

In frustration I donned my ear studs and finally took a look at myself in the mirror. The only thing I liked about my reflection was my green ribbon around my wrist, which I still couldn't take off although the colour didn't match the rest of my outfit at all. Without realising that it took Mum usually much time to wash her hands I followed my father's wish and went downstairs and outside where the last candles, tablecloths and garlands were being placed.

Daddy checked everything and gave improving instructions. Like always he was in control of everything…and everyone.

"Honeybee!" he greeted me enthusiastically when he saw me.

I smiled weakly when he came over to me and put his arm around me. I didn't know why but I just couldn't hide my lack of interest like I had always done before. My body was still tensed up and my hair still seemed to have a mind of its own.

"Now, look at this. It's going to be a perfect evening," my father predicted and looked at our wonderfully decorated garden. He was proud of what he saw, what _he_ had arranged.

"How couldn't it be perfect?" I countered tartly. I regretted my tone immediately because my father looked at me suspiciously.

"Is there something wrong, sweetie pie?" he wanted to know and I couldn't help feeling but calling his tone…threatening.

I felt somehow…scared from the way he looked at me. He made me feel like I had said something terrible, that I should be punished for. That he _would_ punish me for if I didn't say what he wanted to hear from me – and he didn't want to hear the truth.

"Nothing's wrong," I replied and smiled nervously.

Of course there wasn't anything wrong in presence of my father. But not because he was able to solve every problem that possibly occurred. There wasn't anything wrong because he had the ability to suppress problems and to make others do so as well.

"I'll just go to…Juan," I continued uncertainly and went to the band, which was still being instructed by my boyfriend. "How are you doing so far?" I asked Juan nervously and kissed his cheek.

I knew my father was still watching me. That's why I had to pretend that everything was all right. I didn't like hugging Juan – still because of what he had said one week ago. But I was downright scared of Daddy's reaction if he saw that things weren't perfect between me and my boyfriend. So I clung him although it was pretty inappropriate for he was in the middle of a conversation with the band leader.

I just had to make it look like everything was all right. I just had to! I didn't want to think about how my father would react if he found out that something was wrong.

I was so focused on Daddy that I didn't realise that I was looking for protection in Juan's arms. Although I had given him the cold shoulder the last days he ended the conversation with the band leader while I still watched how my father turned to other things concerning the party. I sighed a breath of relief for he wasn't any more about to discover what was going on with me.

It was when Juan embraced me as well that I remembered how angry I was at him. I wanted to end the hug but he didn't loosen his grip.

"Would you please let me go?" I asked in an annoyed voice.

"Not until you've told me what's wrong with you," he countered. I wanted to free myself but he didn't let me. "And don't tell me everything's all right because I won't believe you."

He honestly wanted to know what my problem was. He _really_ cared about me.

But unfortunately I didn't see this. Maybe we would have found a solution if I had been clear about it. Maybe…

These thoughts would come to my mind when it was too late already. When he said those words I felt threatened again. It was just like when my father asked me about my problems. I didn't even consider that Juan wanted me to answer honestly. Probably it was a reflex that told me to flee, to run away.

But I had to lie to get away from what I considered as danger. I swallowed before I spoke.

"It's just the excitement because of tonight. You know, it's easy for me to dance in front of strangers but this time I know all these people. That's what I'm concerned about and I'm angry at myself that I worry so much," I invented a story which was only half true.

Obviously I could convince him. He let me go and although he hadn't hurt me I rubbed my arm.

"Snookie, that's no reason to make it a big deal. You know that when we dance we don't care about the people watching us anyway," he answered and smiled. "You should have told me earlier."

"Oh, you had to care so much about our new choreography, the music, and that stuff. I didn't want to confront you with my problems as well," I added.

He cupped my face and kissed me with all the tenderness only he could give. I neither returned nor refused it. I just let it happen fearing that he'd ask me questions again if I didn't.

"I'm relieved that it's just this. Don't worry, my bunny, it'll be all right. I promised you, remember?" he asked smiling.

"Yeah, I do," I replied and thought about the night after the day when I had introduced Juan to my father. At that time I had really believed him that we would enjoy this evening. Now I was full of doubts…and fear.

"I just need to talk about some things with Jimmy now," he explained in a good mood and nodded into the direction of the band leader. "Later your handsome man will have lots of time for you,_ mi amor_, I promise."

"Sure," I answered without meaning it. When he left winking at me I also walked away trying to calm down again.

Everything was okay. He believed my lie. I was safe.

What concerned me while walking was that I had actually _feared _being honest with my boyfriend. It had been fear, which had made me tolerate his kiss. I definitely wasn't afraid of him hurting me physically. He'd never do so. Neither would my father. But what if that kiss was only the beginning? What if he would force me again to do things that I didn't want? Things, which would go further…? Like…giving up my job or…

"Nonsense!" I mumbled and shook my head trying to drive away my thoughts. I told myself what my father would have told me as well. That I worried too much. That I should stop thinking. That it was crap what was going through my mind.

But once I pushed all the thoughts about my family aside for a moment I began to see the whole thing from a different point of view and my step slowed. I was mad at him. Yes. A lot. Then again: He wanted to _marry_ me! Because he loved me so much, he really did.

Throughout the past three years he had become an inherent part of my life, which I didn't want to miss. He was always there for me and he had always been. For nearly every exam I had written during my time as a student he had learned with me. When my professor had told me that I had achieved my doctorate it had been him in whose arms I had jumped right afterwards.

On my first day of working at hospital he had accompanied me to the entrance and held my hand. When the hospital had become too much for me, when I had cried and drowned in my self-doubts it had been him who had taken me in his arms and given me back my faith in myself. It had been him who had come over with a bottle of sangría and a DVD on one of the few nights I was free, who I had ordered Chinese food with, who massaged me until I could fall asleep. Whenever I felt sad I knew he would make a joke and talk about his outward appearance, his "sexiness", his "handsomeness", and he'd always make me smile.

I couldn't imagine a life without him. Now that I thought about it our relationship was _really_ serious to me. Why couldn't all this wait a few years until I had become a fully adequate doctor, until he had finished his studies as well? Until we had moved in together, built up our own life, until we knew what it was like to lead a life together? I realised: I _did_ want to marry him. I only didn't want to marry him _now_ and under these circumstances. But then again…wasn't I just making a fuss of small matters? What was a small matter? Was this one…?

I ran into the person I wanted to see at least now. My sister.

"Here you are, chubby cheek! Just look at my hairstyle! It's magnificent," she told me cheerfully and pointed at her head. "Let me see yours!"

She touched my shoulders to make me turn around but I avoided her went past her.

"Not now, Blonda," I answered shortly and took a look at the green ribbon around my wrist like I had done often these days.

I heard from the sound of her shoes how she turned around.

"Come on! This evening is so important for my entire career! I'll let the people know that I'll finally become a TV actress. You could pretend feeling happy only _for once_!" she accused me and I stopped at her last words.

I told myself desperately that she hadn't said this and yet I clenched my fist before I walked away quickly.

* * *

For my liking the damned party started way too early. I didn't know how often I looked at my green ribbon and at the clock like it could tell me how much time was still left until _it_ happened. Probably that's why I made so many mistakes. I tried to give everybody a warm welcome but I was still so terribly tensed up and my hair was in the wrong place, which annoyed me so much. I just didn't see some people although they went right past me, which made them wonder what was wrong with me, or if I just liked being arrogant.

Damned Sheila who I had met one week ago was there as well. My behaviour obviously made me her new target for tonight or in worst case for the next months. I knew whenever she was badmouthing me and I would have loved to tell her that she should shut her damned mouth but at the same time I was afraid that if I did I would do something I'd regret afterwards.

To crown it all Juan, my father, my mother and my sister seemed to enjoy this evening in every way. Just everybody was doing well, everybody. But of course it was me who stepped out of line, who didn't fit, who people badmouthed although I hadn't harmed them in anyway. Who else?

The sun had set when I was so fed up with all those people around me that I decided to go inside and lock myself in one of the bathrooms. I stopped in front of the mirror to tear all the slides, elastic bands and hairpins off my head and my long curls fell on my back. After that I desperately buried my face in my hands and looked down to the floor.

It felt so wrong. Just everything. Being here. Wearing that dress. Talking to those people out there. Waiting for others to arrange my life. Not changing anything about it. Feeling dumb for thinking about changing things.

I wanted to cry but although I felt so desperate there were no tears in my eyes. I screw them up but it was pointless. Why? Why couldn't I even cry, all alone, nobody seeing me? It had worked every time before.

It was a harsh knock at the door that made me start up.

"What?" I asked feeling caught.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" I heard my sister's voice. She sounded like she was in a rush. "Open the door."

I sighed angrily and I was mad at myself that I just did what she had told me to do. When I opened the door Blonda grabbed my arm and made me come with her.

"What's wrong with you?" I wanted to know while walking through the corridor.

"You're a fine one! We're looking for you for ten minutes now! You and Juan are supposed to dance now!" my sister snapped at me.

I swallowed angrily. Blonda pulled me downstairs and outside back to the party. There were some people looking at me when we arrived. Obviously they knew that I had already been searched. Onlysome moments later I felt my mother's hand on my upper arm.

"There you are, pumpkin," my mother began as sweet as ever. "Good you found her, Blonda."

"Yeah" my sister answered shortly and walked away.

"Why is she doing this? I mean, being like that" I tried to explain helplessly. I already felt like I did everything wrong. Why did my sister want me to feel even worse? Because I hadn't admired her hairstyle earlier? Because I should dance now so there would be a moment when everything was _not_ about her? I hadn't meant to harm her in any way and yet she was mad at me. Why? Why?

"Don't talk like that. Blonda was worried about you and she even looked for you," Mum dismissed my concerns leading me towards the dance floor. She didn't want to listen although my voice had cracked.

"Mum…" I began and covered my face with my hands. It was all going too fast. My thoughts were spinning and I needed time to think about all this and why I didn't interfere. What was just wrong with me? "I don't think I can do this now. Please, can't you just tell Daddy that I…I don't feel well?"

She seemed to be as confused as if I had asked her to eat soup with a fork. Telling Daddy that one of his plans wouldn't work out was just ridiculous. No one would question his authority and Mum was no exception. I must have been very desperate that I had asked _her_ for help. Of course it was no surprise that she didn't agree but it was now worse for me than ever that my mother refused to help me although she saw that something was going on with me.

"Sunflower, I don't think that you can back out now. Look, all the people are already waiting and your father…" she explained but at some point I stopped listening. I knew she was right but still it seemed so wrong to me.

"Cookie!" my father finally interrupted my thoughts smiling. Mum and I had just reached him and his grip around my shoulders was gentle but determined. "Finally, I was already worried about you."

I heard only a slight reproach in his voice. In my mind I wanted to contradict that he wasn't worried about me but his plan. Of course I didn't say it out loud.

"Well, good luck, darling. I will watch you from over there," Mum escaped my wish for help with the same smile as always. Now it was up to me to draw a line, which made me more nervous than every choreography I had ever performed.

"Daddy, ehm…couldn't we…look, I don't feel exactly well," I clumsily tried to explain while we took the last steps towards the dance floor. I had no idea how to make this work.

"Everyone's eagerly awaiting the show," he replied contently. I wasn't sure if he hadn't heard me or if he ignored me. He looked around at all the guests, the buffet, the band providing the music. Everything was perfect as it should be, as always. There was no room for my objection, not in his world. "Now it's time for you to concentrate."

His hand was still on my shoulder when we reached the dance floor.

"But-"

"No buts. Show me your best now, muffin," he told me smiling like everything was all right.

I opened my mouth to answer but before I could say something he had already pushed me gently but firmly forward to Juan who gave the band the last instructions. I was already standing right on the dance floor. The people were sitting at their tables, still talking but obviously waiting for their entertainment.

When they saw that I had finally arrived some of them started clapping their hands, probably trying to show politely that they wanted the show to start now. Juan gave me only a slight look and left the stage. He was still talking to the band while taking my hand and going with me to the middle of dance floor. What was wrong with people telling me where to go?

Daddy entered the stage to announce our performance. I swallowed for the second time and kept looking at him thinking about all the things I would have wanted to tell him because of Blonda and Mum and Juan.

"Ehm…my Chelsea bun," Juan began a little concerned. Only reluctantly I turned my head to him. "Why the heck is your hair loose?"

I moved my hand to my head realising that he was right. I had ruined my hairstyle on purpose when I had been to the bathroom. Panic raised inside my stomach. How was I supposed to dance with loose hair? After turning one or two times it would cover my whole face which wouldn't only look stupid but also hamper me in seeing whatever I was doing. I was totally screwed!

"It's gotta work somehow" Juan decided doubtfully and turned away from me to take up his starting position. Again I wanted to answer something, that I would just have to get back to the bathroom to get something to bind my hair together but I heard my father ending his speech.

"…my sweet daughter Wanda and her boyfriend Juandíssimo Magnifico."

All the people clapped their hands and although it felt wrong I also turned around to walk some steps to take up my starting position. There were so many things going through my mind. Things about Daddy, Blonda, Mum, Juan, rebelling, speaking up, suppression, rules, handling problems, the opinion of others, power, doing the right thing, pretending to be something that you're not.

When the band started playing the song my thoughts were interrupted. I tried to suppress all this stuff, just put it into an imaginary box and throw away the key. It was time to concentrate, I had to concentrate because my father had told me to. I looked inside my head for the box in which I had hidden all the dance steps.

But a strange emptiness spread inside my body, my vision blurred and I swallowed for the third time this evening when I became clear about this:

I had forgotten everything.


	4. I react how nobody suspects

_Here we go again with the story that gets subscribed but never faved. #lol# Not that I'm complaining, it just occured to me. After all the most important thing is that you like reading this story. I guess it'd just be embarrassing to admit to the public that you like this story, haha!_

_Wanda's life is about to change tremendously..._

* * *

**Chapter 4: I react how nobody suspects**

I sat on one of the white chairs, rested my elbows on my thighs and kept looking at the green ribbon around my wrist. But it couldn't make me invisible, no matter how much I wished for it. It had been only three minutes but they had been the most terrible three minutes of my life. Three minutes during which I had totally screwed up.

I had been so worried about other things the last days I hadn't wasted one thought on the choreography. Now I had paid the price.

No, that wasn't true. If only _I_ had paid I suppose it wouldn't have nagged at me that much. But my mistake was also affecting Juan and somehow also my father, my mother and Blonda. I had ruined it all. Well done, stupid child…

I had already suppressed parts of what had happened. Juan had tried to save as much as possible by always holding my hand and whispering to me what to do next. But it had been pointless. I hadn't remembered any technical term or step. I had even confused left with right!

_Stop it! Stop it!_ That's what I had told myself desperately. It had been so terrible. I hadn't known what to do, I had had absolutely no clue and everyone had watched me failing.

It hadn't only been embarrassing. It had been humiliating.

After my abasement I had wanted to leave the party but my father hadn't let me. He had said we'd have to endure this now. Maybe my failure was affecting us all but he couldn't have any idea of what it meant being the one who had screwed up, who people would talk about primarily.

After all my father never failed. He always did _everything_ right. Unlike me, his unworthy daughter who he now looked at like she had dirtied his perfect world. I couldn't even give him a look any more. I was a shame now and in his world where there was just no space for a shame like me. He tried to hide it but he didn't do it well.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I noticed that Mum had sat down on the chair next to me only when she started talking.

"Did you try these pastries, muffin?" she began and I slightly started. "They're delicious."

With my head still bent down I looked to the side and realised that Mum was just stabbing her fork into the last bit of a strawberry bun. Watching Mum eating sweets was always a little strange. Judging from her thin figure you'd think that if she ate something it was salad and only salad.

"No," I mumbled and played with one of my long curls, which hung down to both sides of my face like a protective veil. "I didn't."

"Well, I can recommend them most warmly," she replied like she had learned that line for a commercial.

"I don't feel like having anything," I answered and focussed my green strap again. "No matter how delicious it might be."

I didn't know if I appreciated that Mum didn't mention my failure or if I hated it. What I did hate however was having to sit here and not being allowed to go inside. But just imagining that Mum would convince Daddy of changing his mind was ridiculous.

"Well, croissant, then maybe you should just talk with some people for distraction," she indicated, her voice still as sweet as sugar. I knew that Daddy had asked her to drop that hint and that she wasn't talking about my own distraction but that from my failure. I gulped at the imagination of talking to those who had watched my humiliation and having to look into their faces.

"Mum…I don't think I can talk to anybody right now. I just want to go inside," I explained but of course my plea for help remained unanswered again.

"But the gala has only just begun. I don't think your father would appreciate it if you just left," she rejected my request and elegantly placed the fork on the white porcelain plate. White like our dresses, pure like snow, free from any stains. I opened my mouth and for one moment I wanted to know if _she_ would let me go, not Daddy. But since that was simply ridiculous I didn't even start the sentence.

"I…I'll see," I forced myself to say although I knew I couldn't bear what she – or to be exact: my father – wanted me to do. "I just need a minute or two."

"All right," Mum countered and nimbly stood up again. Her task seemed to be done and now she would probably search for my father to get new instructions. I was still looking down when she bent forward and whispered into my ear: "This is really important to your father. So please don't upset him, buttercup."

Although it seemed wrong to me I nodded.

"Okay," I gave back quietly. Mum patted my loose hair and then walked away. Sadly I sighed.

I looked up from my green ribbon for one moment. At some distance I saw my father talking to some people and probably avoiding everything that had to do with me. When he saw me I immediately let my head sink down again. I knew he wanted me to have conversations with the people around me but I couldn't and probably I looked so depressed that no one wanted to speak to me either. I only wished I could have left. I knew that people didn't want to have a loser among them, someone like me. I felt so out of place and at the same time I wondered where my place was.

"Hey chocolate!" I heard a cheerful voice and felt my sister's arms hugging me from behind. "Don't look so sad! Smile!"

She sat down on the chair next to me.

"I really don't feel like it," I answered trying not to look at her. I knew that she looked happy, I knew she ignored how depressed I was. Maybe my failure had brightened up her mood for when she had been looking for me she had been mad at me.

"Look on the bright side!" she proposed and patted my shoulder. "People are gaga about the fact that I'll become an actress! They all think I'll be doing great!"

I clinched my green ribbon so I almost tore it apart.

"You're not serious," I commented flatly after I had turned my head to her.

"Yes, I am!" she answered giggling. "They say I could be the star-"

"I don't mean that!" I interrupted her angrily and yet sounding helpless. "I'm at rock bottom and you think about your career?"

Her grinned disappeared from one moment to another

"Well, I'm sorry for not feeling as miserable as you are!" my sister snapped at me and got up to walk away from me quickly.

I buried my face in my hands. It had been stupid to believe my sister would care about me feeling bad. I should have seen that answer coming. Now she was mad at me again because I hadn't known it better. It was my fault she was angry with me. But…that wasn't fair…was it?

I took the piña colada from the table in front of me and drank it out within the next ten minutes. When I put it back I took heart and looked up again. I tried to ignore everyone but the person I looked for. I saw Juan talking to Priscilla and her husband who we had met one week ago. He was smiling but I knew him good enough to know he was just faking it. When he had finished the conversation he went on to my father who had been probably standing only for one moment alone with no people talking to him to think about what a miserable failure I was.

It needed only one short gaze of Juan into my direction to know who they were talking about. I looked down again stirring the slowly melting ice cubes in my glass with my yellow straw. If only I hadn't been thinking so desperately about what they were saying. I only knew it were no good things. Probably I pondered longer on these things than I had suspected for it was Juan's voice, which got me back into reality.

"Hey rose petal," he began gently.

I looked up and saw him. He had taken off his dinner jacket and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His hands were in the pockets of his black pants.

"What did you tell them?" I asked after a long break. He knew that I was referring to his conversation with the party guests he had after our… I wish I could have called it dance.

"I told them it was…social criticism," he replied as neutral as I had asked.

I gave a slight laugh and looked down again at my glass and the ice cubes in it.

"Did they buy it?" I wanted to know quietly.

He sat down next to me turning the chair the other way around so he could put his arms on the back.

"Maybe the drunk ones," he answered and took my hand.

"I'd have bought it," I commented after swallowing. "I'd buy anything you say. Sometimes I even almost believe that crap you talk about how sexy you are."

"Baby, that's not crap! It's the truth!" he objected pretending to be hurt. It even made me laugh briefly.

For some minutes we remained silent. He just caressed my hand while I felt tears rising inside myself and finally reaching my eyes where I held them back only with effort. Probably I even forgot what he had said when I had eavesdropped on him and my father. In that moment I just needed him, the only person who stood by me although I had failed.

"Come," he finally began and got up still holding my hand. "Let's go somewhere else."

I knew people would notice me when I began to move again for since our presentation I had been sitting on that chair trying to feel invisible. But even if they'd notice me it would be only one short moment until I was gone – not alone but with Juan.

After standing up as well he put his arm around me, which gave me a feeling of protection. I didn't look at anyone but at my shoes until I didn't hear any people around us any more. When I lifted my head I saw that he was guiding me away from the party to a different and more isolated part of the gardens. I appreciated it for I wouldn't have had the courage to leave the party on my own.

Because of the passive infra-red detectors the softly shimmering lights went on when we reached a small precipice, which was fenced off by a short wall. Around us there were some flowerbeds, trees, bushes and a bench. We went to the short wall from where you could see the rest of Daddy's mansion, which included a little forest. Above us the moon and the stars shone but were partly covered by some clouds.

Finally we stopped. He also put his other arm around me and pulled me closer to himself. I embraced him as well and placed my cheek on his shoulder.

"It's okay," he whispered gently caressing my arms and kissing my hair. "It's okay."

I knew what he meant. Only one moment later I sobbed and finally tears began running down my face. I clung to his shirt while crying like I held on to the edge of a precipice. I wished for nothing more than making undone what had happened tonight. My humiliation…that shame, that terrible shame! Maybe I would already have been satisfied if those feelings of guilt had been taken away from me for making my father, my mother, my sister and Juan also feel ashamed because of me.

Although I cried very hard and loud I was surprised how quickly I stopped again like I often did in the arms of another person. When he heard that my crying lowered after about ten minutes he guided me to the bench and made me sit down with him. I was looking at the floor but he lifted my chin with his hand to wipe away some of my tears.

"It's not bad," he answered softly.

I sighed and looked away again. Yes, it _was_ bad. I had ruined it all. I know he tried to cheer me up and I felt guilty for not handling it. But luckily he didn't make it worse and took my hands so I turned my head to him again.

"Really, my fleecy kitty… " he assured me. "Actually, I've been thinking a lot about us…"

He went on talking but I didn't listen. I looked at him but I didn't see him. There were some thoughts coming to my mind, which would change the whole evening and my entire life.

I started wondering why I had wanted to dance at the gala, I was really looking for a reason inside my head. But I didn't find any. Instead I realised that actually I hadn't wanted to dance at this party. It had been Juan who had suggested it and it had been my father, my mother and Blonda who had supported the idea. But me? No one had asked for _my_ opinion.

I thought about the dress and the shoes I was wearing which I hadn't chosen as well but Blonda. I thought about my hairstyle, which I had let Mum arrange. I thought about my life. I thought about the school I had visited which hadn't been my choice either. When I had wanted to study medicine the only thing I had decided on was the subject. My father had chosen the university and the house I should live in although I would have decided for a completely different town.

I tried to think about anything in my life that I had decided on my very own. But nothing came to my mind. I looked down and saw the green ribbon around my wrist. I realised that this green ribbon had been the only thing I had ever really chosen. It had been only that small thing that I had ever dared to choose with nobody influencing me.

That insight hit me so hard would have fallen if I had been standing. I leaned back and looked at the moon above me. Had I been lying to myself my entire life? And if I wasn't who I thought I was then who was I really? Was I anyone…?

His hand on my shoulder made me focus on Juan again. I thought about our relationship hoping to reach a different conclusion. But no.

An important part of our relationship was dancing. Now I realised that it had always been him who had arranged everything. He had always chosen the music, created the choreography, told me how to dance. We had won that championship just because I had always followed his command. If I cooked something for us it had always been him who had decided what I would prepare. If we went somewhere it had been him who drove the car. I hadn't even wanted to come here with Juan. He had demanded it and I had given in.

Why had I given to something I hadn't wanted? Because no one cared about my opinion anyway? How could people do this to me? How could people I loved treat me like that? People like Juan…

If I had been asked a question had people ever expected me to answer honestly? Have they ever considered that I would contradict? Has there ever been a question that I have really been asked?

"My jelly bear…!" his voice interrupted my thoughts.

I realised that he had been talking all the time but I hadn't listened to any word he had said. Actually I didn't care about his words. What had been going through my mind had confused me so much that there wasn't space for anything else.

"Ehm…yeah…sure…" I stammered hoping that this answer would satisfy him.

"Um…my liquorice wheel…" he began and his insecure voice bewildered me even more. Even I had seen his insecurity very few times. "Seriously…I have just asked you… whether you will marry me."

For some moments my facial expression froze. I repeated his words inside my head again and again until they started to make sense. The corners of my mouth began to form a smile, which became broader every second. It made Juan smile as well. He considered it as something good.

But then I did something he didn't expect.

I began to laugh.

A quiet giggle that became louder and louder until I burst into laughter.

I laughed so hard that the tears in my eyes hampered my sight. I wanted to grab the bench but I slipped and fell down. I rolled over the floor holding my stomach, which began to hurt. My hair and my dress became dirty but even that I considered as funny. I kicked my legs and hammered on the floor again and again.

I guess I laughed longer than I had cried some minutes before.

"Stop laughing!" he finally commanded madly.

I turned my head to him and realised that he had stood up. His facial expression showed anger and insult. I tried to rise and control myself but I couldn't and fell down again laughing. I needed several attempts until I had made it clumsily onto the bench again. Still I couldn't stop chuckling and kept holding my hurting stomach. I wiped away the tears in my eyes so I could see again.

"That's not funny" he commented flatly and folded his arms without looking at me. Although I sensed how much I had hurt him I just couldn't stop laughing.

"But…but…that's hilarious!" I replied. I killed myself! I didn't know how I was actually able to speak to him. "You know, when I heard you and Daddy talking one week ago… When you said that soon I'd be your fiancé…in that ignorant and arrogant way! I was so deeply hurt how you two were planning my life! And now you're actually _asking_ me whether I will marry you? That's hilarious! You can't deny!"

I let my torso sink on the bench still shaking because of my laughter.

"What…?" he asked confusedly looking at me again.

"Don't you get it? I haven't even considered that you would _ask_ me whether I will marry you! This whole week I just thought: Oh no, now my life's planned. This whole week the idea of you _asking_ me didn't come to my mind for the slightest moment! I mean, I just realised that no one around here cares for my opinion anyway! But here's the punch line: _Not even I do it myself!_"

"You heard…" he repeated obviously comprehending only slowly.

"Yeah, I did!" I answered. I didn't know what was happening. I just said the words that came to my mind without thinking about them. "I heard those ignorant words you and my father said about me!"

From his gaze I could only guess that I hadn't heard everything they had said that evening. Probably they had said things, which were even more disrespectful. I folded my arms and turned away.

"Look…my jewel of love, sweet as sugar-"

"God damn it, Juan!" I shouted getting up and stepping towards him. "I am not your snookie, your pookie, your honey, your sugar, your liquorice wheel, your Chelsea Bun or your jewel of love, sweet as sugar! _I – have – a – name_!"

"Okay!" he shouted back but then lowering his voice back to normal again. He made a break and I hoped desperately that he wasn't wondering about my name. "Wanda…how much did you hear?"

"Enough to ask you one thing: Are you nuts?" I replied but not waiting for his answer. I began to move in something like a circle "I mean, come on…we're a couple now for three years and none of us has ever wasted a hint on marrying! We don't even live together and you think we'd be ready for moving in together, marriage and having children from one day to the next?"

I stopped and focused on him again.

"I told you this is serious to me, I told you several times!" he defended himself obviously getting mad again.

"And for that reason we can just leave out some steps?" I replied braving his growing anger. I didn't know where I found that courage to say whatever came to my mind… or was it foolishness? I didn't even shake or show any other sign of fear.

He let his fingers run through his hair breathing madly.

"You're saying we don't live together? What about all these tournaments? We spent weeks in the same hotels and every day together! That's equal to living in the same apartment!" he argued.

"It's not equal!" I continued. "That had nothing to do with everyday life! We've never been through some kind of routine! Do you know whether our relationship could even stand that kind of challenge?"

"Don't blame me for the fact that we don't live a boring life!"

"Do you think we'll be dancers and celebrities forever? Do you think things will go on like this all the time?" I couldn't help but laughing sarcastically when I leaned against a tree. "And how's that supposed to work according to your words? Because you said one week ago that we'll have at least ten children and how am I supposed to dance if I'm pregnant all the time?"

Obviously he wanted to answer but he could only give something like a disbelieving laugh.

"Oh my god…" he almost whispered and turned away from me. "Your father was right."

For one moment you could only hear the wind blowing through the leaves of the trees and bushes.

"What?" I asked, stepped towards him and made him turn around by grabbing his shoulder. "What did Daddy say about me?"

He hesitated but he was now in rage and wanted to pay me back for my reaction to his proposal.

"He said that you shouldn't take decisions because you have no idea," he replied trying not to shout at me.

"Of what!" I asked grabbing his shirt to shake him.

"Of everything! Of how life works or which priorities to set! You have just no idea! You do need someone at your side who can keep you from screwing things up! You don't know what's best for you!" he repeated what Daddy had said.

"But my father does or what!" I replied pushing him away from me. I turned around and wiped away some tears in my face. Although I felt deeply hurt and could have burst into tears my anger grew stronger than my pain. "Now I understand…" I began with a low and cracking voice but it became louder with my words. "That's the reason why you connected with Daddy when I introduced you to him. That's what you've been speaking about when you talked in confidence. You badmouthed me and then you realised that you both like controlling me."

"That's not how it was!" he defended himself.

"Then how was it?" I wanted to know and sat down on the bench to hide my face in my hands. "No, don't tell me! I won't believe you anyway!"

"Then how am I supposed to fix this if you don't let me explain to you?" he accused me angrily stepping towards me.

"Why should I listen to you?" I countered madly and looked at him with disappointment. Something he had said one week ago came to my mind again. I just quoted him without thinking. "You exactly know how to subdue me when I protest anyway!"

His gaze showed that he exactly knew what I was referring to. Maybe it was my contemptuous facial expression, which put him into flight. Though I don't think that I had realised his betrayal at that moment. That's why the pain hadn't put me down yet and I was still able to be that mad at him.

He seemed to me like he felt cornered by the fact that I just refused to listen, that I didn't just stand for everything he said. Those difficulties turned into anger. But I didn't make a move to release him from his reaction, which was based on insecurity…or on my will not to take everything any more.

"You know something? Talk to me when you're reasonable again!" he finally countered and turned around to walk away from me.

"Where are you going?" I demanded to know still not giving in.

"Telling your father that he can forget our engagement!" he answered without stopping or looking at me.

"Yeah, go and tell him!" I shouted. "Don't you dare to take care about me! Go and tell him that it's my fault that this whole evening is a disaster! It's always my fault because I have no idea of anything!"

"You're insane, Wanda!" he replied loudly and leaving quickly.

"I'm not insane!" I shouted bursting into tears and laughing at the same time because it had been just a tiny coincidence, which had lead to this fight. If I hadn't heard them talking I wouldn't have reacted like that. Probably I would have said yes without thinking. But now the truth had changed everything.


	5. I'm not like you

_I know Wanda's mother must seem rather Mary-Sue-ish to you but believe me, she's not. She just completely fenced herself off after certain events. I hope this chapter will change your opinion about her a little._

* * *

**Chapter 5: I'm not like you**

I was so mad I walked around kicking some flowers and shouting at the sky. After ruining the last flowerbed I sat down on the bench again and crossed my arms. I rammed my fingernails into my own flesh hoping the pain would calm me down.

"Wanda? Sweetie?" I heard my mother's voice and when I looked up I saw her coming closer. I turned my head to the side again pretending not to see her. "Oh…what have you done to the flowers, honey bun?"

Her voice was so clueless and innocent it made me even more angry.

"What does it look like I did to them?" I snapped. "Anyway, what do you want, Mum?"

Looking at her made me madder and madder. My aggression made her feel insecure. She stepped back slowly but then she smiled again and sat down next to me.

"Sunshine, I guess your boyfriend's proposal went a little wrong-"

"A _little_?" I interrupted her furiously. "He told me that he thinks I'm too dumb to take decisions or responsibility! How am I supposed to marry someone who doesn't take me seriously?"

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Mum played it down. "Why don't you go back and apologise?"

"Apologise! For what?" I bawled jumping on my feet. "For not swallowing his offences? For thinking on my own? For not becoming his subordinated, spineless wife? For…" I gave a desperate laugh and turned away. "For not being like you?"

Silence.

"Darling…" Mum began sweetly. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are!" I interrupted her like I knew what she wanted to say. "You are nothing but Daddy's personal slave. You come whenever he calls, you smile whenever he tells you, you do whatever he wants you to do! What are you if not his slave?"

"Honey, we're married… You shouldn't use words like that," Mum answered.

"Why not? Because they totally match reality?" I countered stepping towards her. I had lowered my voice but now it sounded simply despising. "Do you really think I want to have a marriage like you? Do you really think I want to be inferior to my husband like you? Do you think I want a marriage which is based on fear?"

"Fear…?" Mum repeated in confusion.

"What else is it you feel for him?" I countered tartly. "Don't tell me it's love because that is really not funny!" In spite of my answer I laughed. "He treats you like a pet and you're perfectly obedient to him! Tell me, do you believe the lie yourself that you're so incredibly emancipated because you work in his company as well? Wait, _work_ is probably the wrong word for it. What is it you do anyway? You just smile at the customers and offer them coffee and all that stuff! When the contracts were really negotiated, did you ever say a single word?"

"Sweetie…we share one job…one doesn't work without the other one," Mum answered folding her hands.

"Oh lord!" I uttered covering my face. "You really believe the shit he tells you! Mum, in that company you are so god damned REPLACEABLE! He could hire any pretty girl to do your tasks! The only reason why he doesn't, is that it makes such a good impression to the public if it looks like you had something to say! You live a lie, Mum, nothing but a lie! I have decided a long time ago that I will not be like you!"

"Sweetheart…please…this is not about me tonight. It's about you and your engagement. Your boyfriend is really upset and your father-"

"Has commanded you to come here and persuade me of going back and pretending that nothing has happened," I cut her short. "And you obey him. Naturally."

I was panting and turned to a tree to catch my breath and to ram my long and healthy nails into the bark. I heard how Mum stood up and walked some steps.

"This is supposed to be _your_ night. Please stop talking about me, honey," she asked me calmly and when I turned my gaze towards her again I saw how she picked up a white lily I had kicked out of one of the flower beds.

"Why should I stop? We never talk about you, Mum! It's about damned time that we do!" I contradicted and grabbed one of the thick branches with both hands. While I talked Mum removed some dirt from the petals of the white lily. "Is there even ever something going on inside of you? Seriously, I don't know! You're like a doll, always pretty and smiling and just so fucking perfect! It makes me puke, Mum! YOU make me puke! FUCKING PUKE!"

I hoped that I had provoked her to fight with me like nearly every person would have done it. But instead Mum was still crouching on the ground taking care of the slightly damaged lily.

"Well, darling…you have every right to think of me like that," she gave back looking down to the flower in her hands.

"Is that all!" I blurted out. "Mum, try to show some spine only ONCE! My entire life I watched you smiling and being friendly and when someone was rude you'd still be smiling and if that didn't help it'd be Daddy who'd shut them up! But Daddy's not here now, Mum! I god damned offended you! Be mad! Shout at me! Stand up for yourself! Cry! I don't care but just DO SOMETHING!"

My voice was by far not as loud as I wanted it to be but it was not the time to care.

Meanwhile Mum collected some other flowers, freed them from dirt and shaped them into some kind of little bouquet.

"Well, I'm sorry if my behaviour upsets you, pumpkin," she apologised after swallowing. "I really try not to be an unpleasant person. Obviously I don't succeed. Once again: I'm sorry."

Incredulously I watched how Mum picked up another flower and how her smile returned to her lips. It made me sick.

"Fuck! Stop it, Mum! For god's sake, stop smiling like that!" I yelled and let go off the branch I was clinging to. She started but then looked up to me in confusion.

"What do you mean by 'like that'? A smile is a smile, is it not?" she answered in a tone like we were talking about the weather. My next sentence was a thought that had already been in my mind for several years.

"Your smile was once different!" I reproached her and Mum's back suddenly straightened like she felt a cold shiver, like I had hit a weak spot. "I saw photos of you and Daddy! When you were newly in love, when you were engaged, your wedding photos…! Even in the first years of your marriage you smiled differently! It wasn't only your smile! Everything was different! It was…it was real!"

Patiently Mum adjusted the petals of a lavender tulip, now almost successful at hiding that I was telling the truth.

"We all change throughout the years, sweetheart," she tried to end the matter but I wouldn't let her.

"Then why did you change? Uncle Piero and Uncle Carmino once told me too! You and Daddy, you were happy and in love and at some point it just changed! Why, Mum? Why!" I demanded to know kicking some other flowers out of the soil, which landed not far away from Mum. She wouldn't answer and so I continued: "I know it! It was Daddy! He became jealous and possessive and you became unhappy! Because he always has to control everything and everyone!"

"It's not your father's fault," Mum contradicted calmly and picked up the flowers I had ruined. "Please don't blame him. He's always been good to me."

"Good to you!" I exclaimed and unfortunately dropped the previous subject. "You're nothing but his trophy! He completely controls you and you just let it happen! I'd NEVER want to be a wife like you! Never!" Panting I placed one of my feet on the wooden bench and crossed my arms. She should have contradicted me, tried to explain or she should simply have told me to shut up for being so rude but nothing happened. And so I continued my unstoppable way of destruction. "It's not only that. It's that spineless attitude in general! I think you were my entire life in the fucking same mood! Are you sure you're not a robot? Because otherwise you'd have opinions and feelings and dreams and a character! Where is your character, Mum?"

It was like she didn't even take note of my yelling. Judging from her reaction I also could have told her about the garden. She was still busy with the flowers in her hands and didn't even look at me. Her lack of any reaction gave me the urge to seize her throat but since a few strings of reason were still able to hold me back I instead kicked over the bench.

"I AM ASKING YOU, MUM!" I shouted and turned around to her and put my hands on my hips. "Where is your character? What are your dreams? What do you want in this life? What is the reason you're here?"

I was a little hoarse by now and I couldn't stop some tears flowing down my cheeks, tears of desperation because I was shrieking with all my heart and all my body and Mum totally seemed to ignore it. My knees were shaking but I knew I couldn't give in and trusted my wrath to hold me.

Like there was no haste at all Mum lifted her head and watched a few insects buzzing around the burning lantern. After removing a dirty leaf from gerbera she cleared her throat.

"I'm here so you will go back to your boyfriend and work this out. It's all just a misunderstanding, darling. You'll see," she replied sweetly and finally rose with the little bouquet in her hands.

Incredulously I watched her every move. I watched her smile which not even the revelation of my deepest feelings could change. My madness grew stronger again and without thinking I roughly snatched the flowers out of her hands. They landed all over the floor in the same chaos this evening was about to become.

"So this is it!" I shrieked. "You decide to show no emotion _at all_?" I gave a disbelieving sigh and roughly wiped away some of my tears. "Oh seriously, why am I not surprised? Why should I even have hoped that you would show something like feelings after all these years? Why should I have hoped that you would want to develop something like a connection to me? After all, I'm not your favourite daughter! I am not Blonda!"

We had reached another subject, which revealed more wrath, more pain and more destruction. I clenched my hair knowing that otherwise I might slap her. This time I told her the following straight into her sky-blue eyes and she didn't avoid me.

"You always liked her best!" I began scornfully. "Because she never asked more of you than tips for make-up and hairstyles! Because if she has any feelings she decided to lock them up just like you! Because she is such a fucking perfect doll, just like you! But not me, Mum! I am not like you! Did you ever realise how much your rejection hurt? How can you just reject your own child in every emotional way? Even after…" I swallowed and took a short breath. "After that thing in middle school when I was just so fucking depressive and suicidal and all you NEVER took me into your arms! You never did in general and if you did your hug was like two seconds long! I'd have needed you so much so often in my life and you were NEVER there for me! I've always wondered what it has to be like to have a mother like in these TV series where they just sit in the kitchen and eat cookies and just talk and where the daughters tell their mothers about their love-sickness or so and the mothers give advices and tell about their experiences and…!" I shouted but stopped since there was no sense in telling her more details about the dream I had invented. "Daddy was just always so bossy and dominant and always told us what to do and I'd have needed someone to protect me from him and…" What I was saying began to confuse me myself and so I shook my head and continued: "Well, I suppose you'd only stand up for someone who means something to you. Which is obviously not the case, right, Mum?" My voice had turned more aggressive again. I let go off my hair and stepped towards her, my face close to hers, so I could see her every reaction towards my following question. "You only fight for someone you love. So tell me honestly…" I took a deep breath and didn't bat an eyelid. "Do you even love me, Mum?"

I didn't blink my eyes for one moment and first neither did Mum. But then she did, furrowed her eyebrows like she was sorry for how she felt and finally took her eyes off mine. The answer was clear.

I gulped. I wasn't shocked because of her answer. I was shocked because it didn't surprise me. Because this was what I had felt all along. And I had been right. Until now some part of me had told me that I had to over-dramatise it, that I just had to be wrong. But I had been right all along.

She didn't love me.

It's said that all mothers love their children. But mine didn't. I could have wasted many thoughts on why she didn't love me but I was sick of it. In an emotional way I had been motherless my entire life and I was used to it.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Wanda. Believe me," she finally replied sweetly and adjusted her elaborate hairstyle but I detected a slight cracking in her voice. "That really has nothing to do with you. I think you're a very good person and you surely deserve a mother who loves you."

"Is that ALL you have to say?" I shouted and kicked over a flowerpot which shattered into hundreds of pieces. "Do you even realise what you just said? You said you don't love you OWN CHILD! You…you are a terrible mother! In fact I think you're the worst mother ever! EVER!"

I turned around and rammed my fist into the tree behind me. More tears ran down my face and I didn't even care to hold them back, even if I had wanted to. I didn't intend to continue the conversation and expected Mum to back off cowardly. But after another phase of silence she did something I would have expected at the very least.

She contradicted me.

"No," she answered and all the sweetness was gone from her voice. I was so confused I didn't even manage to turn around. "Wanda, you have the right to say whatever you want about me and I don't blame you. But I am not a terrible mother."

"WHAT?" I yelled as I finally turned around to her. As I saw her facial expression it showed more seriousness than I had ever seen in her. "You…you're not really saying that you're a good mother! Because that-"

"I am not," she interrupted me. I think that was the first time she had ever interrupted anyone. "I certainly do not think that I'm a good mother. How could I? I'm not blind. But I've got to say, Wanda…you have absolutely no idea what it's like to have a terrible mother."

Her hand wandered over her upper neck and only when it was already way too late I'd realise that she was touching a scar, which was usually covered by her light pink hair and of which she had always refused to tell me or Blonda how she had gotten it. But since I didn't realise this I acted very ignorantly.

"I don't?" I snapped and crossed my arms. "Then what is it like, Mum? Tell me if you know so much better!"

She swallowed – maybe her tears – and looked away. Her hand wandered from her neck to her necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. It was a necklace she wore nearly every day and when she didn't wear it she always took it with her. If my soul hadn't been tainted with so much wrath and pain I'd have realised that you only treated an object like that if it meant a lot to you. But I also didn't know the story of that necklace. I hardly knew anything about her.

Although she didn't look at me I knew that there was a lot behind her sad blue eyes. Somehow I thought that I had a right to know what it was. But I also knew that she wouldn't tell me and it made me even madder. Whatever it was I knew that it had influenced my life and thus I considered it as my business as well. I looked up at the moon shining down on us and how clouds began to cover it. Mum still remained silent and I knew she wouldn't speak further about the topic.

"Right. Great answer, Mum. I'm so convinced now," I spat in contempt and narrowed my eyes. "This is pretty much the proof that you have no idea what it's like to be completely left alone by the ones who are supposed to love you."

Another surprise: She gave a short but bitter and sarcastic laugh. I had never heard such a sound from her throat before and obviously neither had she for she covered her mouth quickly like she could capture what had just escaped from her mouth. Trying to show composure she cleared her throat and folded her hands but I noticed how they were slightly shaking.

"We should really change the subject," she tried to end the matter and attempted to behave normally. "Please, cupcake. Your boyfriend is still waiting for you. I really think you should go back to him and reconcile and-"

"Oh yeah? And do you know what I think?" I snapped and clung to the green ribbon around my wrist. "I think I shouldn't give a shit about what you think! Because you don't know anything about being hurt! About PAIN!"

Another smile – close to madness – played about her lips and she tried to suppress it but it didn't really work. She placed her palm on her lips and then nervously began to play around with her necklace again.

"I'm very sorry to say this, darling but…I'm afraid you're insane," she commented, trying to sound calm but her voice was shaking.

"I am not insane!" I countered sharply. "But I am angry enough to go back and tell Daddy and Juan that I am not their spineless puppet, that I am not like you and that I will never be!" I wanted to go back to the gala but before I did the first steps I turned around and looked at her. I took a deep breath and with all the contempt I could conjure I told her the following, which would be my last words for her in a very long time. "I despise you and all you stand for, _Mum_. You make me puke and someone like you shouldn't even be allowed to have children! But what do you care, right? It's just me who had to suffer from your incompetence and your callousness!"

I waited one last moment for an answer but nothing happened. She just kept playing around with her necklace, her pupils slightly shaking and I knew there was a lot she could have told and explained but she wouldn't.

Not now.

Not ever.

Finally I turned away and decided to concentrate on my own fate.

While walking the stony walkway back to the party I focussed my green ribbon praying it would help me somehow. If I hadn't been that angry and willing not to take everything any more my fear of Daddy's reaction would have dominated. My anger would give me the strength of telling what I thought only for a short time but I didn't care. If I didn't tell them now what was going through my mind I'd never do it and I'd regret it.

My dress was dirty from rolling over the floor earlier, my hair was dishevelled and my make-up wasn't existent any more. People looked at me pretty confused when I reached the party. I didn't care and looked for Daddy and Juan. When I didn't find them anywhere I wanted to go inside but a hand on my shoulder kept me from doing so. I clenched my teeth in aggression because again someone tried to tell me where to go. I became even angrier when I turned around and saw Blonda who was smiling at me. She was surrounded by three of her friends who were some always-giggling bitches. Damned Sheila was among them.

"What happened to you, sweetheart? You're looking terrible!" Blonda commented patronizing and began to laugh. Her friends joined her while my sister fiddled about with me.

I snatched her hand so she started. Her friends' arrogant laughter in combination with my sister's inappropriate touching made me want to wring their necks but especially Blonda's.

"Just leave me, okay?" I answered aggressively and wanted to turn around but again my sister touched me by grabbing my arm.

"What the heck is wrong with you _now_?" she asked and again I gave a very inappropriate laugh.

"You're saying that like you're actually interested in my answer! Obviously you're not the worst actress in the world any more," I commented sarcastically.

It took Blonda a moment until she realised what I had said. Her so-called 'friends' began to whisper like they always did when they gossiped.

"Don't talk to me like that!" my sister commanded trying to prove her authority.

"Then just leave me!" I countered sharply and wanted to turn around but my sister grabbed my wrist.

"Apologise!" Blonda demanded. I knew she didn't let me go because she didn't want to look like a fool in front of her friends.

"Blonda, seriously. _Stop it,_" I ordered grinding my teeth because I knew I was about to explode.

"But you really should apologise," Sheila added stepping forward. "You've been harsh."

Her other friends agreed and I'd have loved to kick their butts. No one had asked for their opinion!

"You see, girls…" Blonda began and let my hand go to stroke her hair theatrically. "She's always been jealous of me because I'm the talented one."

Once more I laughed desperately. Although the crap coming out of her mouth could have made me cry as well.

"You mean the one with the talented breasts," I replied.

Her shocked friends opened their mouths.

"Excuse me?" Blonda gasped.

I could have stopped at that point but she had provoked me too much. No, I wouldn't stand for her needling any more, especially not in front of her bitchy friends.

"Oh come on, Blonda… Just tell me about your TV role: How many guys did you have to sleep with to get it?" I asked her tartly. "Because as far as I've heard your only talent of acting is pretending org-"

"Stop it, Wanda!" Blonda interrupted me loudly so many people standing around us began to notice us and our conflict. Now _she_ felt cornered and not me. It was sadistic but I enjoyed her helplessness. And I wasn't willing to stop.

"You don't want me to go on? Too bad!" I commented and turned around to the people watching and listening. I raised my voice. "Dear party guests! Excuse me! May I have your attention please! I have a favour to ask for everyone at this party who has ever fucked my sister. Would you please raise your hands now? And don't be shy, there are loads of people who did so. Just ask our former high school class!"

"STOP IT, WANDA!" my sister shouted so loudly that the band stopped playing and even the guests at the other end of the party noticed what was going on. The people around us remained silent, probably because they were fascinated and scared of what was going on. I only heard few people whispering.

I turned to her again and saw that Blonda had covered her mouth with her hands, maybe hoping she would have controlled her voice.

"Why should I, _Dorothy_?" I asked so loudly that people around us understood what I said. I used her real name, which she had refused since middle school, to provoke her." Are you embarrassed because I'm saying what we all know? That you're a slut! Come on, you already knew how to flutter your eyelashes to make the boys dance your tune when we were in kindergarten. That's how you always got everything you wanted. Just tell me, how was it back then when Juan didn't give a crap about you although you had been wearing your shortest skirt and your shirt with the lowest neckline? Was it bitter? Have suffered a lot when you got to know that he's planning to marry me?"

"And where is the point?" my sister countered and laughed arrogantly. "As far as I know it's not going to happen anyway because you destroyed everything. But why am I surprised? That's the only thing you can do. Destroying. If something bad happens it's your fault anyway!"

I clenched my fist and swallowed. I must have heard wrongly!

I've never spoken of the things I weren't okay with, I never did because I hadn't wanted to annoy or burden anybody. I've always hidden my anger and vented it on myself. And just because I didn't lie and smile tonight although I cried inside my sister dared to say that everything bad was my fault?

"Say that again," I answered looking at her without batting an eyelid. My sister didn't give in.

"It's – your – fault – anyway," she repeated clearly and obviously meaning it completely.

I hadn't heard wrongly. She had actually said it.

My whole body began to shake in anger and I felt adrenaline running through my veins.

I took a swing and Blonda's friends around her and everyone else gave shrill cries when I slapped my sister in her face with all my strength. It made a loud and sharp sound when I hit her cheek and she stumbled, almost fell.

This was the moment when I began to lose control about myself.


	6. I want your suffering

_Surprise, I'm not dead! Sorry for the long break (again). I moved and then I went on vacation and oh, so many things happened and are still happening. But now I'm back and the drama continues..._

* * *

_There was a little girl, who had a little curl  
Right in the middle of her forehead  
And when she was good, she was very, very good  
But when she was bad, she was HOMICIDAL!_

_- "Time for Tea" by Emilie Autumn  
_

_(I hereby credit Emilie Autumn also for any other allusion to her song in this chapter and humbly point out that I will never be such a great artist as she is. I worship and adore her. Enjoy reading while I go back to my shrine of her.)_

* * *

**Chapter 6: I want your suffering**

I think there are people who agree with me if I say that there's no person who you can beat more easily than your sister or your brother. After all, that's what you do with your siblings already when you're a child. When I slapped my sister I probably thought without realising it that it would turn out to be just one more needless fight about toys or something.

When my sister lifted slowly her head again she looked at me as shocked as I've never seen her before. She placed her hand on her red tuned cheek.

"Don't you-" she began but was interrupted by one more slap of me, which was accompanied by more cries of the people around us.

The fact that the beginning of her sentence had seemed like a command had led my hand without me controlling it. I didn't blink my eyes for one second when she looked at me again now holding both of her cheeks. But this time her gaze showed anger. This time she was willing to fight back.

"Okay, girls!" Sheila tried to play the whole thing down and stepped between us. "I suppose you just-"

"Shut up, Sheila or you're the next one who's face I smash!" I threatened her glancing at her angrily but before I knew it I felt a burning pain in my face and I stumbled back when my sister also hit my face with her flat hand.

When I looked at her again it wasn't just anger between us.

It was hate.

Hate – it took over my whole body, it spread like a disease and transformed me into something else: the truth.

Some people wanted to prevent the worst and stepped towards us. But before they could reach us I let a glowing circular line appear on the floor. It was a spell, which pushed everyone else but me and my sister out of the circle and would keep others from coming inside. Although they would see what happened inside the circle no one would hear us and we wouldn't hear them either. This is one of the few magical actions a fairy is able to perform without a wand if your emotional state is extreme enough. In my case I was so full of hate and anger that it would even take much time for the security service to break my spell without risking my life.

Damned Sheila and both of Blonda's other bitchy friends were the first ones who were violently pushed away from us. I let the circle grow and some tables and chairs were torn apart while people tried to run away from being pushed but not everyone made it.

"Do you think I'm impressed now?" she asked snootily.

Her arrogance made me give her one more slap and grab her hair so she screamed. I didn't care for her pain or her perfect hairstyle that I was now ruining. I wanted her to suffer, that god-damned bitch!

"I tried way too long to impress you, Dorothy!" I shouted and pushed her away from me down on the floor where I kicked her stomach. At university I had learned much about adrenaline, the stress hormone that increased your blood pressure and heart rate. I knew its chemical structure, where its name derived from, its solubility, molar weight, melting point and much more. But that was absolutely nothing compared to feeling it running through my veins. "I always tried to be there for you, I've always wanted to be your sister! What did you do?! What did you do, Dorothy?! You pushed me away every fucking time I tried to spend time with you! Do you know how much I've always longed for your attention?! Have you ever realised it!?"

Over all these years pain had turned into hate and hate had now become my strength.

When all this was over sometimes I would try to find an excuse for what I did, try to tell myself that I wasn't myself but the truth was: I have never been more myself than in that very night. Everything else that had been before had been a lie. For the first time in my life I was honest to myself and everyone else. I couldn't stop the truth, not after so many years of being suppressed – even if I had wanted to.

I wanted to kick her again but she grabbed my ankle and pulled me down as well. With my shaking legs and high-heeled shoes I had no chance to resist and fell painfully down on the hard stone tiles. After overpowering me she sat on my back twisting my arm, which made me scream.

"Don't make me laugh! It's your fault that our family never was one! You've always cut yourself off us! You always turned away! You moved out as fast as you could!" she accused me.

She completely distorted the facts. _She_ had been the one who had cut herself off. The only thing I had ever wanted was to become independent. Yes, I had emotionally withdrawn from that so-called 'family' as well but we all had. But since Blonda enjoyed our parents' attention a lot more than I did it was a lot easier for her to blame me. It was always easier to blame others, especially for Blonda.

My thoughts weren't clear enough to put all this into words. I just screamed all my anger and desperation out of the innermost part of my soul as if my life depended on it and I enjoyed the trembling of my whole body so much. I was not going to hide all this any more.

"And have you ever wondered why I moved out as soon as I could? No, for you I've always been the asshole! You just blamed me because you needed somebody to! Why should I have wanted to stay longer than I had to?! Have you given me a reason?! Why should I have exposed myself to being ignored by you every time I needed help?!" I answered back freeing myself from her grip. We fought and I punched her face. We knelt in front of each other when I clenched her blond hair.

I was willing to show her how loud and strong I could be. That image of a perfect family had been a lie all along, so why not shatter it into thousands of pieces?

"Okay, then why did you move out as soon as you could?! Give me one good reason! We had just everything around here!" she replied clenching also my hair.

"For the same reason you didn't ever give a shit about me! Because I don't love you! I never did because _you _never gave me a reason! You never cared about my problems! I wasn't even worth it you acted like you cared!" I answered. " Don't tell me you stayed longer than me because you wanted to! It was just more comfortable! It had nothing to do with love! You spoiled brat!"

"I'm spoiled?! What about you! You never loved us?! You've ALWAYS been Daddy's favourite! His fucking good girl! That fulfilled all his expectations!" she shrieked back tearing out some hairs of mine but I didn't give a damn.

"You're nuts! I never wanted all this! I HAD to be his pet because you were busy with turning away to protect yourself! But his attention was still good enough for you! No matter how good my marks were, YOU were always in the spotlight and not me! I put his wishes before mine and still you were the one who had all the attention! I was good enough to be his slave and you were praised for intruding whenever you needed attention! Other than that you're a coward and you always were! The only thing you're good at is running away! Running away from problems just like Mum!" I shouted.

For one moment my grip weakened of which she took advantage and pushed me down to the floor. I lay on my hurting back and her hand still clung to my long, pink curls, so strongly that I now screamed. I grabbed her wrist but I couldn't push her away and so I shouted:

"You're just as superficial as her! And only because of that she always liked you best! SHE DOESN'T EVEN LOVE ME! Only you for being shallow and that's what I hate you for!"

Blonda gave a bitter, sarcastic laugh.

"Love me? Mum's supposed to _love_ me! Give me a break!" she countered. "Mum doesn't love anybody! Mum isn't even able to love! I learned that a long time ago! I know that as long as I can remember! I never expected her to be a real mother! That's the only reason why I get along with her! You were just too dumb to understand this! And that's what you blame us for? For your own stupidity? You're a cold-hearted bitch!" she replied screaming.

I couldn't control myself any more. I just couldn't. I could only think about making her suffer for her words. She didn't want to understand me. Not now, not ever. But this time my desperation turned into anger, pure anger.

With both hands I grabbed her throat. I shock she let go off my hair so I was free. I pushed her down to the floor and sat down astride on her to slap her again and again. I began to cry in aggression and my hot tears burned like fire when they ran down my cheeks. I was already out of breath and my voice cracked while speaking. I plunged my fingernails as deep into her arms as I could and felt some blood on my hands.

"I'M COLD-HEARTED?! WHAT ABOUT YOU?! MY ROOM WAS RIGHT NEXT TO YOURS ALL THESE YEARS AND YOU MUST HAVE HEARD MY CRYING EVERY FUCKING TIME! AND DID YOU COME OVER ONLY FOR ONCE?! HAVE YOU EVER ASKED ME THE OTHER DAY WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? ALL YOU COULD DO WAS SMILING AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH YOUR SMILE PISSES ME OFF TODAY! YOU'RE THE WORST SISTER IN THE WORLD AND YOU'RE ACCUSING ME OF NOT WANTING TO STAY WITH YOU ANY LONGER?! WHY SHOULD I HAVE WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH SOMEONE WHO LIKES ME JUST WHEN I LAUGH AND SMILE?! AND EVERY TIME I DON'T YOU JUST WUSH ME AWAY! TELL MY WHY I SHOULD LOVE YOU, WHY ANYBODY SHOULD LOVE YOU!" I told her what I had been thinking for years but never had the courage to say it because I knew it wouldn't do it without violence.

"BECAUSE I'M NOT LIKE YOU!" she shrieked back.

With those words I lost my last hint of mind.

In spite of the hate and anger that made me shake, scream and punch I felt so…balanced for I knew my hate, my pain and I had finally found each other. We had always belonged together, now we were finally united and oh – how strong we were together!

No more being a good girl.

No more getting back in line.

Only the truth.

I slapped and punched her although my hands already hurt. I was so full of aggression that she couldn't fight back. I left her no chance.

I grabbed her hair and raised her head just to hit it on the ground again. I wanted to beat those nasty words out of her so she never said anything like this ever again. I wanted to show her what she had done to me. Desperately screaming I hit her head on the floor again and again until my arms weakened.

I felt some kind of satisfaction when I saw how her fucking blond hair began to turn red. I hoped she was suffering and more afraid of me than anything else. I enjoyed hearing just her screams and the sound of her head hitting the ground.

This was _my_ revolution. My revenge. And my revenge knew only few words, like a mantra, like a program that repeated its commands again and again.

ERADICATE THE ENEMY

ERADICATE THE ENEMY

ERADICATE THE ENEMY

ERADICATE THE ENEMY

ERADICATE THE ENEMY

ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE ERADICATE …

But suddenly I was pushed away and landed on the floor some metres away from Blonda. The wonderful moment of superiority and strength was over. It was almost like waking up from a wonderful dream. When I began to hear many people around me talking again I comprehended that my spell had been broken. Nevertheless I wanted to follow my instinct of harming my sister until she wouldn't call me a bitch ever again.

I got up but I felt how strong arms held me back from behind. I fought against that person, screamed and cursed but I couldn't free myself. When I focussed on my sister again I saw how my father helped her sitting up and how some people handed her paper towels and some water. It made me even angrier that people treated _her_ like the victim. _I_ was the victim, my wounds were just not physical. It kept me even from enjoying the blood in her face, the scratch wounds at her arms, her bleeding lips and her dishevelled and red turned hair.

"GIVING UP ALREADY?! IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!" I shouted at her. "WHERE'S YOUR BIG MOUTH NOW?!"

"You're insane, Wanda!" she replied hoarsely. She tried to shout as well but her voice was too weak. Yet her gaze proved her anger.

She still didn't show fear or even respect! Still there were words coming out of her mouth, which I wanted to punch her for. It were the same words Juan and Mum had said to me earlier, those uncomprehending words which showed no interest in why I behaved how I did.

"I'm insane?! And why do you think I am, Dorothy?! Do you think I woke up one day and decided that I wouldn't want to be happy?! Do you think I decided on crying?!" I asked her as loud as my voice let me.

"No, because you're too dumb to take decisions!" she replied and once more I burst into anger and fought so hard against the arms holding me that I could free myself to pounce on my sister willing to make her finally shut up!

But before I could start punching her I felt again how arms held me back from behind.

"Wanda, stop it!" Juandíssimo's voice demanded pulling me back from her.

I screamed while fighting against him.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" I demanded kicking my legs. "She deserves it! She's the worst sister in the world! _She's_ the asshole, not me! _She_ left me alone!"

It felt like my vocal chords almost broke and although I shouted with all my strength it wasn't enough. I still tried to free myself but every time I almost made it he grabbed me again at my arms, my waist, my legs.

"You're insane…!" she repeated with a cracking, powerless and yet angry voice.

I was pulled away from her farther and farther, so once more I shouted with all my power to be sure that she heard what I said.

"ONE PUNCH FOR EVERY TEAR I EVER CRIED AND I COULD BEAT YOU UP FOR YEARS!" I still fought and he locked his arms around my arms and my torso. "YOU HEAR ME, DOROTHY?! _FOR YEARS_!"

I kept screaming like a lunatic because I still hadn't paid her back. People around me watched me with fear and shock. They didn't comprehend. No one did!

When I was pushed inside the empty entrance hall, Juandíssimo closed the door behind him through which I wanted to go back. I hit him clumsily without rhyme or reason, so it was easy for him to push me back until I landed on the stairs.

I wanted to get up again but I couldn't. My arms were too weak, couldn't carry my own weight. My strength had faded away for now with Blonda my target was out of my sight. Instead desperation overcame me.

I coughed because I had shouted so much. At the same time I began to cry again so I couldn't breathe. I covered my face and huddled up.

What had just happened didn't seem real to me. I didn't want to believe it. It couldn't have been me who had done all this. I had shouted at my boyfriend, Mum and Blonda. I had even beaten up my sister but the worst thing was: I had enjoyed it. And if I hadn't been stopped I would have gone on. If I hadn't been stopped I would have killed her. I would have killed her if only she had shut up then.

I had wanted to kill my sister…!

I shook while crying and sobbing. It was the only sound you heard. Blonda had been right. The only thing I could do was destroying. It was my fault that this evening was a whole disaster. Just because of me!

Who else?

"Oh god…!" I whispered.

What had I done? What had I just done…?

I knew I would never be able to forgive myself. Neither would Blonda. No one would! Someone like me didn't deserve another chance.

From the corners of my eyes I saw how Juandíssimo sat down next to me and placed a tissue on the stair which I was lying on. I tried to get up and used it but then I broke down again clenching the tissue in my hand.

I wasn't just a shame now. I was a monster.

I don't know how long I lay there. Juandíssimo kept sitting next to me but he didn't touch me. Was he afraid I would freak out again? I couldn't blame him.

When the doors of the entrance hall opened again I heard someone entering. I looked up for just one moment but when I saw my father closing the doors I hid my face in my arms again hoping to find protection.

Now I would be punished. Although I was sure to deserve it I was terribly afraid for I knew my father could let me suffer like nobody else could – and he would.


	7. I'm begging in front of you

**Chapter 7: I'm begging in front of you**

I was so afraid I couldn't move except for shaking. Suddenly I remembered why I had been a good girl for such a long time. The reasons had been fear and the knowledge that otherwise I wouldn't survive. I knew there was no protection for what was about to happen now.

I heard my father's steps into my direction. Although I was lying right in front of him I prayed that he wouldn't see and just pass me.

I noticed how Juandíssimo got up and saw just through a gap between my arms how he stepped towards my father. Although I desperately hoped for protection from my father I knew it was pointless. No one could brave my father.

"I think-" Juandíssimo began but my father needed only to move his hand slightly to stop him from talking and make him move aside.

I screwed up my eyes and scrunched up myself to show him my humility. I knew it was within his powers to emotionally deal me the death blow. The only question left was: Was he mad enough to do it?

The only sound that could be heard was my crying mixed with low talking from outside.

"What have you done, Wanda?" he asked me in a threatening, disappointed and angry way but without raising his voice.

I was terribly afraid of not answering but replying was something I feared even more. I still didn't move.

"Look at me," he commanded coldly.

Very slowly and still shaking I lifted my head. My father's gaze showed contempt and rage which he held back only with effort. One more crying fit overcame me, I couldn't stand the way he looked at me and hid my face in my arms again.

"I only wanted her to stop…!" I tried to explain helplessly. "But she didn't…she just didn't…"

My tears were stronger than my voice and so I gave in.

"Stop her from what?!" my father demanded to know. I opened my mouth but he didn't let me answer. "She has to be brought to hospital! You put your own sister into hospital, Wanda! What hell has only come over you?!"

His reproaches were like knifes rammed into my stomach.

"She said everything's my fault! She said the only thing I can do is destroying! But all I've ever done is swallowing and remaining silent…! I never blamed anyone but myself and I tried not to annoy anyone by talking about my problems…! I've always hidden them… I exactly did what you taught me, Daddy…!" I defended myself desperately sobbing. "I only didn't tonight…"

That he didn't answer confused me. When I took heart to raise my head I saw my father for the first time in my life speechless. It confused me so much I didn't even let my head sink again.

"I never taught you to swallow things," he countered incredulously. "I taught you to state your own opinion."

"No…you taught me to state _your_ opinion," I explained confused like a child. "Every time I just tried to criticise you, you became mad at me. If I said something it was wrong."

He gave a desperate laugh.

"That's just not true," he replied in bewilderment.

"You see?" I answered almost smiling because of the irony. "What I say is wrong. You said yourself that I have no idea of anything."

Searching for help I looked at Juandíssimo. After all he had been the one who had told me about my father's words. I had just quoted him. This couldn't be wrong as well. I wasn't too dumb to repeat something, was I?

My father turned around and let his hand run through his hair. He shook his head disbelievingly like I had said something very stupid. He made me feel like I had done something wrong. But…I had told him facts. Facts! Something you don't think about, so they can't be wrong, can they?

"But Daddy…" I began helplessly. "You said so yourself."

"That's not what I meant!" he yelled suddenly turning around to me again.

I got a fright, crawled up one stair where I grabbed the steps of the banister in fear.

"Don't shout at me!" I cried desperately, then lowering my voice again to make up my loud tone. "Please don't shout at me, Daddy…"

There was a long pause between us, which made me feel insecure. What was he thinking? How to punish me? What to yell at me? In which way he could torture me best? He seemed to be so mad at me.

"Do you hate me now, Daddy?" I finally asked because I couldn't stand the silence.

"What?" he questioned confusedly. Why was my father confused? He never was. He always knew what to do. He was always in control of everything and everyone. You had no choice in his presence.

"Do you hate me now…?" I repeated. I felt and sounded like a helpless child left alone in a foreign city. He still didn't answer and looked at me uncomprehendingly. Clumsily I tried to explain. "You…you always loved her more than me…I mean Dorothy. Now I beat her up and I…I…" My tears stopped me from talking because the truth was that – in spite of the shock about what I had done – I didn't feel sorry for it. But then I decided that I wouldn't tell him. I didn't want to believe it myself and I couldn't stand it if he despised me even more. "She's always been your favourite and-"

"That's not true!" he shouted stepping towards me.

"Yes, it is!" I yelled falling back. "It's always been 'Dorothy and Wanda', never 'Wanda and Dorothy'! I always came last! You always wanted me to be like her! Dorothy liked the school we went to, I didn't but did you care about my opinion? No, Dorothy's was more important! When I wanted to go to the amusement park and she wanted to go to the zoo we went to the zoo! When I wanted pizza and she wanted spaghetti we had spaghetti! You always spent more time with her although she was more bad-tempered than I was! She even refuses the name you gave her! That's why I moved out as fast as I could! I couldn't stand that you love her more than me although she didn't do anything to deserve it! I fought for your love and appreciation so long and it was pointless all these years!"

My voice was cracking very hoarse from all the shouting. The adrenaline that had given me the courage to beat up Blonda had disappeared and all that was left was fear that let my body shake as if it was freezing.

"That's just not true!" my father called. breath

"And that's a god damned weak argument!" I countered.

"If I haven't loved you all these years then why do I paid your house, your studies, your livelihood?! Why should I do those things?!"

"To be able to say just this!" I shouted crawling up some stairs to keep some distance to my father. I felt so cornered now he was shouting at me and not understanding. "You don't love me, you love controlling me! You love feeling superior to me and who am I anyway? Some stupid child with no idea of anything! Whatever I do is wrong, whatever I say is wrong! Daddy, I don't know what to do to make you love me! I tried so hard but it didn't work…! I put your happiness before mine but tonight I couldn't do it any more…! I tried to become unhappy only if you would become happy instead, if you would love me and be proud of me…! But it didn't work, Daddy! It just didn't…" I let my head sink down on my knees and put my arms around my legs while crying. "I couldn't suppress my own feelings any more after I had heard you and Juandíssimo talk one week ago! After I had become absolutely clear about the fact that you don't love me…! That you could only show real interest in me if I gave birth to your grandchildren! That's all I will ever be for you…!"

"I just want you to be safe! I want you to be protected! I just want someone to take care of you to make sure that you won't be hurt and have to suffer! You don't know how cruel this world can be!" my father kept yelling.

I started once again. Only in fear I dared to raise my head. My vision was blurred and still tears were streaming down my face. My tensed up hand clung to the dirty skirt of my white dress.

"I do know," I answered quietly. He made me feel arrogant because I dared to know something but…it was just how I felt. After all the master of cruelty was standing right in front of me. "You've shown me."

He turned around, walked some steps to take a vase from a table to throw it on the floor where it burst into hundreds of pieces. The loud sound made me flinch and I pressed my head against my knees, crying. I kept sobbing desperately hoping he would show pity with me but he didn't.

"I'VE SHOWN YOU HOW CRUEL THS WORLD CAN BE?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE DONE FOR YOU?! I WORKED EVERY DAY FOR MY CHILDREN, FOR DOROTHY _AND_ FOR YOU! I'VE GIVEN YOU ALL I HAD AND THAT'S YOUR WAY OF SAYING THANKS?! I CAN'T BELIEVE…!"

He walked around very heated and kept shouting. It was so typical. I cuddled in front of him, I cried, I was having an emotional breakdown and yet my father kept yelling at me, he kept torturing me, reproaching me which was worse than any violence he could have done to me.

I couldn't be weak enough for him, not even falling apart. He wouldn't ever love me, never ever…!

I put my hands over my ears because I couldn't stand his loud voice. I felt again like the little girl that had dirtied the new carpet by spitting orange juice…although all I had wanted was to drink something I was punished…tortured. I wasn't a bad girl! I've always been a good girl and yet I was punished for making a mistake. A mistake! Nothing evil…just a mistake…!

I didn't make the slightest move any more except for crying. I didn't move because I was afraid of making another mistake. But he didn't stop. He yelled at me all the time. I tipped over to the side, his voice was worse than his hand could have been.

When he finally stopped I dared to open my screwed up eyes and hazily saw Juandíssimo standing in front of me facing my father. He had raised his flat hands in a calming way.

"Please…come down," he asked my father in a strong and yet not shouting voice.

"Get lost! That's something between me and my daughter!" my father demanded. "It's none of your business!"

"I'm not watching this any more," Juandíssimo made clear without falling back.

He didn't give in to my father just like the first time they had met.

"And I'm not watching any more how I get blamed for EVERYTHING that went wrong in her life! God, damn it, I gave my children ALL I HAVE! And that's the result?! My daughter blames me for whatever went wrong?! I tried just everything to protect her and give her a safe home! I DID ALL I COULD!" my father shouted again.

I knew those words weren't addressed directly to me and yet I answered.

"I'M SORRY!" I yelled crying, sobbing; shaking. While speaking with a weak voice I tried to stand up but my legs were so weak and the high heels of my shoes made it even harder. "I'm sorry that you've been punished with a bad girl like me, Daddy…I'm so sorry." I grabbed the banister next to me to stand up. I didn't look at him but at the floor. "I know I can't apologise for what I've done. I ruined it all. I always did, I always do. You don't deserve a bad girl like me, Daddy." I swallowed but still new tears ran down my face. "I'll just leave, Daddy! You won't see me ever again, I promise! I'll just get out of your life… I can't do more for you, Daddy…" Slowly I climbed some stairs. "I just failed at being your daughter. I just failed. I'm so sorry, Daddy…I'm so sorry…"

Very clumsily and slowly I went upstairs to reach my former room. My whole body felt so weak from shouting and hitting and crying. I began to feel the painful wounds of the fight with Blonda. If I had moved faster I would have broken down.

My father stopped me by giving a disbelieving laugh. It was cold and ignorant. The mere sound gave my wounded heart another stab but I was neither prepared for his answer nor for the cruel tone of it. I already knew in that moment that I just should have run away instead of stopping and listening.

"Do you think that way you can make up for everything?" he asked despising. "No, Wanda. You can't!"

The contempt in his voice caused me to have another crying fit. I covered my face and began to run upstairs. I stumbled often and even fell once but I didn't care. Even the last thing I tried to do for my father was wrong, everything was wrong, EVERYTHING!

I just couldn't stand it any more. The mask of perfection was completely destroyed. I just had to get away before my father would destroy me in the cruellest way that there is…

"Tell me instead how I can make up for being such a horrible father! Don't just run away! TELL ME HOW TO FIX THIS, WANDA!" he shouted after me.

How should I have known? How should I possibly have known?! He had raised me as a stupid, not-thinking girl and now he asked me something and demanded to hear a solution from me? It was cruel, so cruel…

I could think of only one thing: flight. I wanted to leave, I just had to… There was no room for any other thought in my mind.


	8. I'm gonna blame it on you

_You know how hard it can be_  
_ To keep believing in me_  
_ When everything and everyone_  
_ Becomes my enemy and when_  
_ There's nothing more you can do_  
_ I'm gonna blame it on you_  
_ It's not the way I want to be_  
_ I only hope that in the end you will see…_

_"Opheliac" by Emilie Autumn_

* * *

**Chapter 8: I'm gonna blame it on you**

After opening the door to my room I stumbled over my own feet and fell again. I knew I couldn't stand up and so I crawled through the room but sometimes my arms couldn't even carry my own weight any more. When I heard steps coming after me I desperately tried to move forward, fearing my father was following me but it was Juan who knelt down to me and hugged me.

"It'll be all right, it'll be all right…" he whispered into my ear and tried to order my chaotic hair. My long and once beautiful hair which he loved so much.

I pushed him away from me. I felt so captured in his arms, I just couldn't stand it!

"Get lost! Get lost!" I shouted crawling away from him. "This is all your fault…! This was your idea, only yours!"

"I know, I know!" he answered following and embracing me again. I tried to free myself but he didn't let me go. "It was my idea to go here and it was a mistake. Let's just go home, let's get away…"

"No! NO!" I yelled lashing out wildly around me until I slapped him by accident and he finally let me go. "I don't have a home, especially _we _don't! I don't even have a house on my own because…he paid it…! I don't have a home, I just don't!"

"Then just…come to my place! You can stay there as long as you want to, I promise, Wanda!" he assured me ignoring his red and probably hurting cheek.

He took my hands and pressed them against his chest.

"LET ME GO!" I demanded because his closeness scared me so much. It was like he wanted to cage me, take away my space to breath. I cried while fighting against him but I was too weak. "You're just like him! You just want to shut me in!"

"Don't talk like that," he tried to calm me down but I fought harder and escaped his arms.

I crawled away from him to my bed where I grabbed the cover at the footboard.

"Stop commanding me! For god's sake, stop it!" I called shaking. "That's what everyone always does! And where's the point? I don't do anything right! No matter what I do!"

"That's not true…!" he tried to convince me but I didn't want to listen.

I just wanted to be alone, so I wouldn't harm anyone ever again. I couldn't stand shouting and crying any more. I wanted it all to stop…I wanted to end it on any way. If only it would put an end to this nightmare…

"Stop telling me what to think, Juan! I don't follow your command any more! I'm useless for you! All you want is a woman at your side who always remains silent, who never rebels and I've been that woman for you all the time! But not any more, NOT ANYMORE! I won't let you suppress me any more!" I made clear and let my head sink on my bed where the cover wetted by my tears.

I was talking nonsense without realising it. If there was one thing Juan didn't like it were obedient women. He loved my strong-willed, passionate and assertive side. But now it was like all that had never been there, like I had always been the weak little girl that was controlled by others.

"I…I never suppressed you," he replied confusedly.

"Yes, you did…!" I countered crying and still without looking up. "It all began when we started dancing, when you taught me and had a reason to feel superior to me! You ordered every step and every move I made! And then you went further and didn't just command me things if it came to dancing but to…just everything! It all began with all these fucking tournaments, when you became more and more ambitious!"

"Then we'll stop dancing!" he decided and I felt his hands on my shoulders.

"Don't pretend you would change for me!" I answered and got up to stumble to the couch where I took my teddy bear Mister Cookie as if he was a weapon. "You're just like him! You just need someone to be your foot scrapper! You won't ever treat me equally!"

He stood up as well and turned around to me.

"Wanda, I see that made mistakes but I can only show you that I can change if you let me!" he replied desperately trying to reach my common sense.

Why did he make it so hard? I just wanted to end this! I couldn't fight any more…destroying everything. Everything was ruined already. Why was he turning the knife in my wounds? Couldn't it just end?!

"Stop raising my hopes! I can't go through something like this again! No one can change, Juan! NO ONE! Not even you! You're not the superman you always try to be!" I yelled weakly.

He stepped towards me again and I stumbled back falling over the coffee table. I fell, dropped Mister Cookie and pulled with me the little tablecloth with two candles and a dish including some fruits. The pain I felt in my back was so strong I couldn't defend myself against his arms embracing me again.

"But I have changed already since I know you! Don't you remember what I was famous for? For sleeping with all those girls and since I have you I don't even think-"

"YOU DON'T HAVE ME!" I croaked because my voice was so hoarse. I still hit him clumsily hoping he would let me go. "I'm not yours, you don't own me, Juan! I'm not one of those trophies we won…which _you _won!"

Why didn't he get it? I had enough of all those people trying to tell me what to do, who thought they knew me better than I did. I just wanted to be alone, all alone!

"You know that's not true," he corrected me in a calming voice, caressing my hair and kissing my cheeks, which were wet from all my tears.

Was that all he had to say? That it wasn't true? It was the same argument my father had and you couldn't even call it an argument! What was that supposed to mean "that's not true"? It didn't change anything! It was so useless I didn't even want to answer it.

"Let me go, Juan…" I begged, my voice cracking. "Please, let me go…"

"I won't give you up, Wanda… I swear I won't," he promised.

He placed his lips on mine so gently, like I had wanted nobody else to do it. I felt his warm breath on my skin and some more tears blurred my vision. When he caressed my cheek and my neck I began to realise how close he was to me.

I had shared with him almost everything of my inner. I had even brought him here to introduce him to my family although I had been terribly afraid. Yes, I still was very angry because of his words to my father, which I hadn't been supposed to hear. But a part of me believed him that he was sorry for it. I wanted to ignore that part. I wanted to be mad at him because I wanted him to clear off for the truth was: He was so close to me it scared me.

I hadn't only told him already so much of me. He had seen me losing control about myself tonight. He had seen me beating up Blonda in some kind of savage frenzy. He had heard me screaming in hate. He had seen me kneeling in front of my father in humility. Now it was like he really knew everything…_everything_! My entire…weakness. It was like I was completely at his mercy. No, I couldn't trust him that he wouldn't use this circumstance for his advantage. I was sure he would!

He had already done it, he had wanted to plan my life and shut me in a gilded cage. What had he said? He exactly knew how to subdue me when I protest?! No matter how often he told me he was sorry I couldn't ever really believe him again. He would abuse my trust and his knowledge about my inner!

I had to make him leave me! He didn't let me go. He wouldn't let me leave him. I had to take away the trust he had in me. I had to show him that he was wrong, that there was no reason to trust me any more. For once I wanted to be right at something.

There was no reason to love me, not even my family did. And why? Because I destroyed everything. Yeah, destroying…that's what I could do best…

He ended our kiss and wiped away some of my tears. He tried to smile at me and kept caressing me gently. This would have been our last kiss.

_Okay, one last try_ I thought and freed myself from his now loose arms. I stood up, walked some steps and opened one drawer of the bedside table to take my keys out of it. I wanted to leave and hurried towards the door but as I had suspected Juandíssimo snatched my keys out of my hand before I could just leave without having to hurt him.

"Give it back, god damn it!" I demanded desperately reaching for my keys.

"I won't let you leave me! Wanda, I love you!" he countered holding my property as far away from me as he could. "And I know you love me too!"

He didn't leave me a choice. I wanted this to end. I couldn't stand having someone at my side who knew so much about me he could destroy me easily. It would be easy because I was…weak.

I couldn't live with that…humiliation! Before he could destroy me I would destroy him. Yeah…damned straight I would!

I swallowed and in some strange way I was now able to stop crying like at the push of a button. I guess there were just no more tears inside of me. I gave an arrogant laugh. That's what I was best at. Behaving arrogantly. Just like Blonda had said.

I walked away from him to sit down on the couch, my back turned to him. My voice was strong but my hands were shaking when I clenched the green ribbon around my wrist hoping it would give me the strength to do this.

"I have never loved you," I answered as coldly as my voice let me. It sounded much more persuasive than I had expected.

_It' easy_ I thought. _I just have to lie. Lies are words like any other words._

"But what I really liked about dancing was standing in the spotlight. I liked giving some interviews and even being on TV several times. I knew this was one way to do better than my sister who has always wished for being a star. It made her jealous. That's why I have been to all those tournaments with you. And I started dancing just because you wanted it so badly and I pitied you…"

Dancing meant so much more to him. It wasn't just a hobby. For him it was something very deep and he had wanted to share it with me. _But what do I care?_

"You know what I thought when we had won that championship? I just thought how great it felt to have gotten my own back on Blonda. That's what I danced for at that tournament. Not for you. Everything else about dancing, which didn't make me feel superior to her just sucked. Especially always pretending to the press what a happy couple we are. Otherwise they wouldn't have wanted to report on us that often."

"Wanda, you don't expect me to-" he began but I interrupted him when I heard how he stepped towards me. My words made him stop again.

"It was the same reason why I brought you here. Do you think I was so naive to think that this relationship wouldn't break if I introduced you to my father? What happened now is indeed annoying but I have seen something like this coming. Actually it was worth seeing Blonda's dumb face because my relationship to a man she had once wanted seemed so close. And you howled around anyway because you thought we were so close to each other and had to get to know each other's families. So I thought: Why not…"

I clenched my ribbon harder and swallowed because the words required a lot of power.

_I will make you hate me. See how cruel I can be!_

"This relationship had no future anyway. I knew this all the time. If it had been different I wouldn't ever have brought you here. My father always ruins my and Blonda's love live. That's how it was already at high school. It'll never change. I didn't want it to end like this but you didn't want it differently. It's your fault."

_I'm cruelty itself! Can you feel it?_

"If I loved you I wouldn't have left you alone with my father at your first meeting. Don't you think I would have known how to protect my relationship for someone I love? No matter how afraid I am of my father, I wouldn't ever have let this happen, I would have developed courage."

_You think I brought you here because I was so sure things would be different? No, I won't show you how dumb I am, how wrong I was._

"You're lying!" Juandíssimo interrupted me but I could already hear his doubts. Probably he sat down on my bed because my words had hurt him so much.

_You're cracking! You're actually cracking! But that wasn't all…_

"Well, you have to know!" I countered laughing sarcastically. "Because you know me so well! That's why you could predict my reaction when you proposed to me. I have to say that I could burst into laughter again when I think about that! That I would marry you is an absolutely hilarious imagination!"

_Yeah, that hurt, right?_

I laughed as coldly as I could. I did it well.

_Like knifes into your heart! I will destroy you until you're even weaker than I am!_

"I mean, even if I hadn't heard those ignorant words of you and my father I would only have said yes out of pity. And you thought you could control me together with my father? Don't make me laugh! But actually it's quite funny that you thought about starting a family with me. And yet it's so pitiable…"

"So you pity me…?" he asked disbelievingly.

I placed my head on the seat back, so I was looking at the ceiling.

_I can do this, I know… Soon you will break…into hundreds of pieces! And I'll trample them!_

"Don't tell me you haven't ever noticed it!" I continued. "Don't tell me that you have changed. You have been looking at hundreds of girls since our relationship began. We both know why you always do so: Because that's your only way of keeping up your self-esteem. Which is very low, especially if you consider the number of girls you flirt with every day. You need it, you need all those girls, adoring you. It makes you feel better and not that worthless."

_I'm taking your deepest secrets and I'm tearing them apart! Look at me, see how good I am at destroying…!_

"I'm sick of your whining about how scared you are of disappointing your father and that stupid competition among you and your brothers! Marrying me would be only one more desperate act to get something like self-confidence of which I don't think that you will ever achieve it, even if your father was finally proud of you for once if you had married me. It's the same reason why you boasted that you could knock me up ten times. Do you really think I would take part in keeping up any longer that puny part of you which should be called self-esteem? Come on, I pity you and nothing else."

"How can you-" he began but I interrupted him again because I knew I couldn't stand the pain in his voice for a long time.

_There's not much left of you…I will deal you the deathblow! You and your faith in me!_

I let my cheek sink on the upholstery of the couch's seat back, now looking to the side and at the door, the way out of this mess which I would reach soon.

"You even looked at Blonda like some prey… But okay, that's what any guy does, especially when she wears her extremely short skirts. You thought about her like you thought about any other woman passing your way."

I swallowed.

_I'm killing your last hope, just watch me! I'm killing it slowly, torturing it again and again!_

"I was actually surprised that you didn't ever call me by the wrong name. But as often as you always called me darling, honey, pookie, jelly bear and so on you probably weren't ever really sure."

_You have no choice but to hate me!_

"We both know how much you miss being able to fuck any girl you see and spreading the news afterwards. Do you know how disgusting it is coming to your place and having to think about how many girls you already fucked here and there? Where did you have most of them? Do you know how much your hands disgust me which already touched dozens of woman before me?"

_Just a little bit more and it's done… Hate me… Loose your faith in me… Leave me… I'm breaking you down… You won't ever want to see me again…and that way you'll never see my weakness again…_

"You miss fucking everything that isn't nailed down. I know that. I always did. You know how much it has always pissed me off having to think about whether you fucked some girl you just met just because you had a bad day? How do you think I could love someone whose self-esteem is…actually not existent!"

_I'm about to cross the line, I know it! I will cross it! Hate me!_

"But the most disgusting thing was having to think about which illnesses you already had because you screwed so many women. And always having to worry about the possibility that you dragged along new illnesses you could affect me with. But you wouldn't ever have been able to stand all this. That's why I remained silent. I pity you and you disgust me. That's all."

_Break, god damn it! Break! How many lies do you want to hear? How can you suffer that much? Break!_

My hands were shaking terribly while I was listening closely to the sounds around me. There was a long and painful silence during which I still held on to my green ribbon. Was that the sound of him breaking inside? I hoped it!

"I don't believe you," he finally answered with a cracking voice.

I knew he still tried to put up resistance against my words but I knew I was only some steps away from my aim.

"Then what do you want me to say?! Why don't you get it?! I want you to leave me! Go and tell everyone that it was my fault this whole shit broke but just go! How else am I supposed to show you that I don't want to have you with me?!" I shouted.

"Say it straight into my face," he demanded weakly and probably swallowing his tears.

I took a deep breath. I stood up and turned around. I hid my hands behind my back so he couldn't see how desperately I clenched my green ribbon with shaking hands. He was sitting on my bed, held my keys in his hands and kept looking at me. When I came nearer I saw tears shimmering in his eyes.

His facial expression showed pain, pure and deep pain. There weren't even reproaches or anger. It was just pain.

_Only three words and it's done. I can beat him. He'll be weaker than me. He'll be destroyed._

I couldn't stand making him suffer that much. I just wanted to get it over and done!

_Only three words!_

I swallowed and finally opened my mouth still not turning one hair.

"You – disgust – me," I finally answered.

I didn't know what I had suspected to happen. Probably that he would freak out, wreck the furnishing, shout and scream. Something loud.

But instead I only saw how one tear started running down his face. Before I saw too much of it he stood up, threw away my keys and just…walked away.

It was so awkwardly quiet when I was finally alone. Alone – that's what I had wanted to be! And now…? Everything felt just so…dead. But was that a surprise? I had killed everything around me. It was a dead battlefield around me and that didn't make any sounds or moves. It was just me who was left.

I had done it. I had made him leave me. The one who had been closer to me than anyone else. Who I was so afraid of that he might hurt me because he knew me so well. That's something I didn't have to fear any more. I had hurt him before he could hurt me.

Although I had put him into flight I knew this was no sign of strength but of weakness. It had been a desperate attempt of hiding how weak I was. Obviously he had believed that lie. I wouldn't have thought he would do so. But he had.

It was only then when I let go of my green ribbon, which hadn't broken although I had pulled it so much.

I don't think I had realised at that moment what had happened…what I had done. It was like a shock. I felt so…numb.

I looked around, looked at my room which looked like always except for the fallen over coffee table. I reacted without thinking and I still don't know why I did it but I put my keys with shaking hands on my bed again.

I went towards the coffee table and righted it.

I took the tablecloth and lay it on the table.

I smoothed it out, placed the candles and the little dish on it.

I filled the dish again with the fruits lying around like it had been before.

I took my teddy bear Mister Cookie and gently placed him on the couch.

I made it look just like it had looked before all this had happened…

Then I went back to the bed where I took my keys and left the room. Luckily I didn't meet anybody on my way downstairs. I needed both of my hands to open the front door but somehow managed to close it behind me after stepping outside into the cool and unexpectedly quiet night. My legs were still shaking when I walked towards my car, opened it and took the driver's seat. After closing the door I inserted the car key into the lock. I took a deep breath before I started the engine and broke the peaceful silence of that cruel night.

Before anybody could see me I sped up, drove down the street and so I finally disappeared.


	9. I know it's over (Part A)

_Merry winter solstice everybody! (Because that's the real origin of this holiday. Jesus doesn't have anything to do with it, dear people.) This new chapter is my little gift for you and I hope you enjoy it! And now let us celebrate the fact that the days grow longer again._

* * *

**Chapter 9: I know it's over (Part A)**

_Dear Wanda,_

_As you don't answer your phone or open the door of your house for me I decided to write this letter to tell you some last words. Don't worry, I won't pester you again after this. You pushed me away from you. And your words hurt, god damn it, they did._

_Blonda left right after she had come back from the hospital. She won't take action against you in any way. She said she doesn't have any time because soon she has to act for her soap opera but I know that's not the only reason. Your father made the journalists and party guests keep quiet about what happened that night and so everything that's left for others are rumours._

_But that's not how it will be for your family or for me. I'd like to help you but I can't because you don't let me. There's simply no sense any more in talking to you. No matter what I say you won't believe me._

_I regret having let you into my life and after all…you haven't given much in our relationship. Maybe that's why I decided so many things, "controlled" you like you said. Because you didn't think our relationship was worth it deciding things together. Your pride is more important to you than I am and I hope the next time you love someone you'll think about this before you destroy that person. I don't know, it's just like I have never really known you. But I'm not mad you. I'm simply disappointed and I don't think that this is a worthy end for what we had…or believed to have._

_I hope you'll get over whatever made you react like you did and that you'll see what you have done._

_Adiós_

_Juan_

Pure shit. That's what I thought when I read that letter. This time he tried to hurt _me_. He joined the same game I had started and yet he pretended to be superior to me! To know me better than I did myself, not to be mad! How ridiculous!

I know he tried to make me think Blonda didn't sue me or anything because she had _forgiven_ me. But I knew she couldn't permit herself to attack her own sister if she wanted to become famous.

I wasn't surprised that Mum also didn't contact me in any way. After all she had confessed herself that she didn't love me. Still I suppose it was her who sent a courier with all the stuff I had left behind me without thinking. Who else would be so ridiculously polite?

My father had to build up his perfect world again – without me. That's why he had bought off (and maybe even threatened) the guests and journalists to forget what had happened at the party. It didn't have anything to do with sparing my reputation. No, Daddy had to make everything seem perfect again although it had never been.

When I had reached "my" house after…breaking up with Juan I had broken down and cried. I had cried like I had never done before. I had even thought that this was the end of the world. It had been different tears from the ones I had shed while fighting. What I had suffered this time had been pure desperation. I had thought I would die of crying. That's probably something one can only understand after enduring it on one's own. Like most of the things I would have to go through now.

I didn't know what hurt me more. The definite separation from those who were supposed to love me and never had or from the one who had loved me with all his heart. I could only say that the shock of the separation from Juan was a lot stronger. Probably because I have always known that there were problems within my family but it just wasn't possible to talk about them. But with Juan I had actually believed we had a working relationship and while I have always suspected that a terrible fight within my family _could_ happen I had been so sure: That's not how it would be between _us_.

* * *

"Wanda?" a voice interrupted my thoughts. It was that of Dr Snow, ward doctor in the hospital where I spent my first year as a resident. He was also my mentor and a patient but strict teacher. "What are you doing?"

"I…nothing," I replied but then continued: "I mean, I'm looking through the medical history of that patient."

I was sitting on an empty bed with the file and a pen in my hands. Since I had returned to work some days ago I always withdrew into empty hospital rooms whenever I had a chance. Being among all those people just felt so terrible. Everything was so loud and everyone wanted something from me, everyone wanted me to decide.

"For 30 minutes?" Dr Snow questioned, entered the room and sat down next to me. "Wanda, what's wrong with you? Since you returned from your vacation you're a completely different person You spend most of your time with your coma patients, you missed the rounds several times and this morning I found _that_." He raised the file in his hands and handed it over to me. Carefully I took it and opened it. The tone of his voice let me know that I had made a mistake. "You cannot prescribe that medicine for Miss Rays. She's septic. She could have died, Wanda," he explained strictly.

I swallowed and watched how my hands began to shake. It was my handwriting without a doubt but I couldn't believe that I had made such a mistake. I had learnt all that in my first semester at university!

I dropped the file and buried my face in my hands.

"Oh shit…shit, shit, shit!" I mumbled desperately. "What happened to her?"

I feared the answer but I just had to know.

"Don't worry. She's all right," he tried to calm me down and placed one hand on my shoulder. "Nurse Pearl noticed the mistake and didn't administer it."

"Oh, thank goodness!" I exclaimed and placed my fingertips on my temples. "Dr Snow, I can't say how sorry I am! This shouldn't have happened!"

"You're right. It shouldn't have. Then why did it happen?" he asked firmly but I knew that underneath all this hid a lot of concern. "Wanda, until some weeks ago you were my best pupil. You were a strong, hard-working, reliable, young woman who took good care of her patients. What happened?"

I looked to the side. I knew I wasn't able to put everything that had happened into words. I couldn't explain that I only came to work again because my common sense told me to. It was a pure torture. Since I didn't feel capable any more of healing my patients because I was afraid of doing everything wrong like Daddy had told me I didn't risk anything with my treatment, which Dr Snow had obviously already noticed. I didn't do anything that could have brought the patients into danger and if the chance was so small that others thought I was mad. I just wanted to keep them alive. I didn't want to destroy another life…not again…

"You don't have to tell me of course. But you should talk this over with someone. Maybe Morgan or your boyfriend…" My hands tensed up and clung to my pants at the last words. "Or isn't he in town? I mean, he usually comes by and picks you up now and then…"

"Dr Snow! Dr Fairywinkle!" a nurse rushing in interrupted the conversation. For one moment I was glad about it. "Mister Silver is collapsing! He needs to be intubated!"

I didn't jump up because I had the urge to help him. It was more a reflex of the functioning machine that I had used to be. Dr Snow jumped up as well and pushed me gently but firmly out of the room. We left the files back and hurried into another room where the patient was in danger. The machines he was connected to were beeping and flashing red.

"The pulse is falling!" another nurse stated and already brought the necessary instruments. When I looked down at my hands I saw that I had taken on gloves while entering. Another reflex I had developed. I didn't realise I was standing right next to the patient's bed until nurse Pearl handed the instruments over to me.

"You must intubate him, Dr Fairywinkle! Now!" she demanded. Without thinking I took the devices but then my hands started shaking again. I looked at the patient lying there and his life depending on my actions, that of a stupid, little girl that couldn't decide for herself. After all I could kill him with the wrong move. I had almost killed Miss Rays this morning.

"The pulse is still falling!" the other nurse informed me while I was still standing there as if frozen. Suddenly all these fragments of that terrible night came to my mind again and rendered me incapable of acting.

" _You have just no idea! You do need someone at your side who can keep you from screwing things up!"_

"_I've got to say, Wanda…you have absolutely no idea what it's like to have a terrible mother."_

"_You've ALWAYS been Daddy's favourite! His fucking good girl!"_

"_Don't just run away! TELL ME HOW TO FIX THIS, WANDA!"_

I knew I couldn't do this. No, not I! I felt sweat running down my forehead as I watched how the patient's status got worse and worse. It was like I had forgotten everything I had learned until then about medicine.

"Wanda, come on!" Dr Snow urged me who was standing right next to me. "You learnt this procedure on your second day!"

I couldn't do it. The responsibility for the life of another person was like lead on my shoulders, that of a weak, dumb little girl that had no right to decide for herself. I felt my throat drying out and my vision blurred for a moment. All the sounds and voices around me were like needles in my heart.

"No," I finally began and then shouted: "NO, I CAN'T DO THIS!"

Without controlling it I threw the instruments against the wall, burst out in tears and ran out of the room. My legs were so weak and shaky that I stumbled several times as I ran upstairs until I reached the roof. I ran until I bumped into the banister and grabbed it with my shaking hands.

Tears were streaming down my face when my legs gave up and I fell down on the floor. I felt incredibly ashamed of my incompetence, of not functioning like the machine I had been raised to be. But the worst thing was that my doing was affecting others, the patients who needed help. Who was I to help them? I was just a stupid girl, I didn't even live in a house that was mine and that person couldn't be able to ease other people's pain. How could I ever have believed I was capable of doing this?

Automatically I moved my hands to my shoulders and began scratching them. It was something I had already done often but it was about to become so extreme that soon I'd have no other choice but calling it self-harm.

Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later I heard how the door to the roof opened again. I still hadn't calmed down and so the attempt of hiding my tears was a rather clumsy one. When he came closer I saw in spite of my tears that it was Dr Snow who was approaching me.

"I'm sorry!" I apologised immediately. I tried to say more but my tears overwhelmed me again. That my mentor saw me in a state like this made everything only worse. Also to him I had always been a functioning machine, the pupil he was so fond and proud of, and now I revealed to another person what I really was.

Dr Snow knelt down next to me on the cold ground. I didn't dare to look at him, fearing that his mere gaze would make me feel worthless and dumb, just like Daddy could do it. But when he spoke his voice was warm and filled with concern.

"Wanda, what's wrong?", he asked me.

I couldn't answer, even if I had wanted to. I couldn't control my voice or even my thoughts. When he had realised that I wasn't able to answer he handed me a tissue, which I took and used. I also used the six other tissues he had before I regained my ability to speak at least a little.

By now we were both sitting on the floor, our backs leaned against the metal banister. He had stretched out his legs while I had my arms around my tucked-up legs and was still playing with one of the tissues.

"What's wrong, Wanda?" he gently asked again. I placed my forehead on my knees and sobbed again.

"What about the patient?" I wanted to know instead. Dr Snow knew that I was avoiding an answer but nevertheless he replied to my question.

"Mister Silver is all right. I performed the procedure. It was close but nothing happened to him," he assured me and I felt a load being taken off my mind. But then disillusion followed. This was the second time I had almost killed a patient because of my emotional state.

It was my job, my responsibility to help them and all I did was plunging those into danger who needed help and care. I knew I would never forgive myself. I didn't want to imagine what could have happened, that if things had been a little different I could have killed two patients and their deaths would have burdened me forever.

I felt the cool evening wind blowing and rubbed my legs. I really appreciated Dr Snow's concern about me but at the same time it was for me like I disappointed another person and that kept me from telling him the whole truth.

"Something happened during your vacation, didn't it?" he made another attempt of making me talk. I swallowed and looked to the side.

"Yes," I answered quietly.

"What happened?" he asked. There it was again: my inability of putting the whole thing into words, explaining how my whole world had been destroyed in one night by myself. Just thinking about it made me nearly cry again. Dr Snow sighed resignedly. "It was just an offer. I really want to help you, Wanda.."

I sniffled back my tears and tried to wipe my cheeks dry with my sleeve.

"I know, Dr Snow and this is really nice of you but I…I just can't talk about it," I clumsily tried to explain. I removed a curl from my face and turned to him again. "Just give me five minutes. Then I can go downstairs again and get back to work."

Dr Snow furrowed his brows.

"You don't seriously want to go back to work now?" he questioned. "You're not fit for work."

"But…but the patients! I will pull myself together, I promise," I replied and knew that my shaking voice was anything else than convincing. Still, this was typical for me. Not wasting one second on my own feelings.

Now Dr Snow turned again into the strict teacher.

"Wanda, you're going home now," he countered with an authority that only few people could fight. I wasn't one of them.

"But…I'm in the middle of my shift!" I croaked helplessly. Dr Snow stood up again as I spoke.

"I will treat your patients. In that state you're not helping anybody here," he added. No doubt, he was right. "And now go home, Wanda. I'll take care of the sick note. You're excused."

* * *

I did go home. But even though now that I was excused a burden was lifted from my shoulders it didn't make anything easier. I didn't go out often, mostly only when I had to get food from the grocery store but every time I came back I leaned against the door after I had closed it behind me, sank down and began to cry. I just couldn't keep all the thoughts I had in my head and so I wrote them down in my diary. I kept doing it the whole time although soon it seemed stupid to me.

I always wrote the same, that I couldn't believe that my family really rejected me once they had found out who I really was. That they hated me for not functioning. That the idea that they might have made mistakes didn't seem to cross their mind for once second. But then again I was glad that they didn't contact me for I knew that everything, the entire illusion of a happy family was destroyed and thus also everything that had ever kept us together. What sense would there have been in repairing something that hadn't been whole to start with?

I couldn't believe that Juan's and my relationship was over. After every time we had told each other how strong our love is, after every lovely picked present, after every time we had shared more of us with each other? What was all this worth it now? Nothing…? That couldn't be true! I couldn't believe it.

I was sure I wasn't mad at him because of his letter. After all I had started attacking him. Of course he had fired back because he didn't want to get hurt by me even more. He had just wanted to pay me back. I told myself I would understand him. I didn't want it to get me. No, I wasn't mad. But if we both weren't mad at each other then why did all this happen anyway? Because we were both lying. We were terribly mad at each other and we both wanted to hurt each other even more. If only I would get my revenge for his god damned letter which I couldn't even throw away!

I thought about writing back and began more than ten letters but every time I thought I had finished one my feelings had changed again. First I wanted to stay reasonable. Next to my huge disappointment I really began to pity him because he didn't do anything else but attacking me now. He behaved just as immature as… I did. We behaved both so pitiable! We were both pictures of misery. It made me so sad seeing us ending up like this. How could something of which you thought it could stand everything…break? Just like this! How could this happen?!

But soon I turned from sad to angry. He put it all like he was the victim, like it was all my fault but it wasn't! Finally he had hurt me in the first place by planning my life. He couldn't blame me for not swallowing everything he said or did. I had just defended myself! I wasn't the bad one!

How could he write I had destroyed him? He had provoked me! He had treated me like a pet. I hadn't destroyed him but he himself! He had written that he regretted having let me into his life. Oh yeah, he regretted it? But at the same time he pretended not to be mad?! How could he hurt me, be deeply disappointed and not mad at the same time? That just wasn't logical! It was just clinging to me so he could let it seem like I had been the one who had given up, like it was my fault! I'm not cruel, I never had bad intentions! So why did he put it like this?

If he knew me that well, then why didn't he see through the game I had been playing with him? If he knew I hadn't meant what I had said then why did he let all this stuff get him? I…I had believed myself that he wouldn't join this stupid game that he would be able to make me stop. Why hadn't he? Why did he let all this happen? Why did he let me drive him away? It made me so angry I wanted to hit him…!

* * *

My sick note applied for one week. But nothing had changed after that. I forced myself to talk to Dr Snow once more and he renewed my sick note for another two weeks. By then still nothing had improved, quite the opposite. Things had become only worse. Dr Snow excused me for another two weeks but he emphasized already that it couldn't go on like that.

Soon the chief of medicine wanted to talk to be about my situation. As an intern I was still some exams away from becoming a real doctor and I wouldn't be able to master those. When she asked me how I thought things would go on I answered:

"To be honest, I don't give a shit about my career right now."

I probably shouldn't have been that blunt. Suddenly she talked about my termination. I hardly understood what she said. My brain was just not able to grasp her words, my thoughts were everywhere but in this office. She emphasized repeatedly that she didn't want to fire me and that with me the hospital would lose a talented young doctor. But what she really meant was that I didn't fit into the system because I didn't function any more. I was broken. The world doesn't need broken people. The world only needs you if you function. There was no chance for bending the rules for someone who was having an emotional breakdown.

Nevertheless I promised her to hand in the resignation myself within the next week, hardly thinking about what it actually meant.

When I left the office Dr Snow was standing outside, obviously waiting for me. He asked me about the result of the conversation and I told him that I would quit. Although he probably thought as well that this was the best decision he still looked worried.

"And…what are you planning to live on then?" was his next question.

"I don't know," I replied rubbing my arms. The desire for self-harm was back and I wanted to go home to satisfy it. "I saved some money. It'll do."

I had indeed some savings. After all Daddy had paid my house and my livelihood all the time and I never had to touch the money I had earned myself since I worked in the hospital.

"And then? Wanda, I'm serious. I…I doubt that you're just having a hard time. Something happened and I don't think that you will be able to handle it all by yourself," he explained worriedly.

I furrowed my brows. I had a feeling about what he was going to say but I didn't dare to believe my own assumption. It was nothing I loathed or feared in general but thinking about it in my case was just so unreal.

"What do you mean?" I still asked, my voice and hands shaking again.

Dr Snow took a deep breath and then answered:

"Wanda, I think you need help. Professional help."


	10. I know it's over (Part B)

**Chapter 10: I know it's over (Part B)**

There seemed to be nothing any more that I enjoyed. I didn't deserve to enjoy anything. The deep wound in my inner left me with so much pain. Only some weeks ago I had believed I had known where I stood and now I didn't know anything any more. It was like I had lost my faith in love. Did it ever exist?

There had been so many beautiful moments with them, which I won't ever forget. How can so much happiness and pain exist alongside? I couldn't fight any more for anything. There was simply no point. So what should I have fought for?

"Professional help," I repeated again and again the words of my mentor while walking in circles through my living room. "Like therapy. Like mental hospital. Like medication."

A laugh escaped from my throat, a sarcastic, nearly an insane one. I didn't notice my hand scratching my arm until I felt the pain of an open wound. My instincts told me to stop but my mind told me to go on and so I scratched my sore flesh, gritted my teeth in pain. I hated it and enjoyed it at the same time.

"Well, if that's not insane, then what is?" I whispered looking at my disfigured skin. "Seems like Dr Snow is right after all…"

I began to do what everyone had always done to me. Blaming myself. But as no one was there any more to punish me for doing everything wrong I hurt myself. It wasn't like I could ever have controlled it. Some day my arms and shoulders had just begun to itch. Then I scratched them. But the itch just wouldn't go away, so I kept scratching until my arms began to bleed. In spite of the pain my skin still itched and so I even scratched the wounds.

I forgot how to cry. I don't know, it just didn't work any more although some time ago I had cried every time I came home. Now I couldn't express my pain by crying any more but by scratching. And there was so much pain!

There was a time when I even scratched my legs but it were mostly my arms. I wanted to punish myself because I hated myself but the more I scratched the uglier my arms became. And the uglier they became the more I hated them and myself for doing this and not knowing how to stop.

I had nightmares almost every night. If I didn't wake up because of them it was because of the pain when I had scratched again while sleeping. It took much time until I was able again to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night.

I began to hate the morning because I always took a shower in the morning. But when the water touched my shoulders and arms it was like small knives cut open my skin.

How long would it go on like this? How much time was left until I scratched myself to death? My wounds became deeper and deeper which disgusted me so much. It was so revolting feeling the blood on my clothes, seeing the stains. Every time my blood touched my clothes I was so disgusted I had to change my clothes. I did it although there was not much sense in that because it didn't take much time until my next clothes were full of blood. But I just had to cover my arms because I couldn't stand looking at them, those ugly arms, full of wounds, which I didn't give a chance to heal. I couldn't because that damned itching just didn't stop!

They were all on my arms. Juan, Mum, Daddy, Blonda…I saw them in every wound I did to myself. Maybe they were out of my life but they now there were there on my arms from where they just didn't leave. Would that suffering ever end? When would I have gone through enough pain to be punished? I wanted to leave all this behind me and yet it seemed impossible.

* * *

My mentor became my doctor. I still couldn't believe that one day he gave me the business card of a psychiatrist. My hands were shaking and I gave a desperate laugh.

"What is it, Wanda?" Dr Snow asked me patiently. There was just him and me in the office.

"It's just that…I had a few patients myself that I referred to a psychiatrist or therapist or something…and now…" I tried to explain. Many of them had rejected my offer, had claimed not to be "crazy". I had pitied them for refusing help. Now I wanted to do the same and understood that reaction better than ever.

"Many illnesses have their roots in psychological problems. If not most of them," Dr Snow answered and adjusted his glasses. My grip around my handbag tightened and I suddenly wished that I would hold my teddy bear Mister Cookie in my arms.

"Some months ago that sounded a lot less hurtful," I admitted looking down to my jeans.

"I believe you. I already called Dr. Phobos so you'll get an appointment as soon as possible. She's very capable. You'll be in good hands, Wanda," he promised me.

"Thank you," I whispered and put the business card into my handbag. Dr Snow took so good care of me that I felt guilty. I knew that wrinkle in his forehead when he was worried about a patient. He now had it constantly when he saw me.

"And when things get too much you can always come here. You know that, right, Wanda?" he asked me caring. When I had begun my first practical year and seen how Dr Snow was able to face stubborn, unfriendly patients with authority and sad, needy ones with warmth I had admired him so much. I had wanted to be a good doctor like him. That goal was now so far away from me that it seemed ridiculous.

"Thank you," I repeated and began the good-bye.

"By the way," he mentioned as we shook hands. "I think you forgot a few things in your locker. You should get them within the next week."

I swallowed before I spoke. Emptying my locker – it was a trivial task and yet it seemed so hard to me now.

"Sure. I will get them," I assured him.

* * *

I called. I got an appointment. In three weeks. Still that was considered very quickly in the psychological sector. I wouldn't ever have admitted that I needed more help than I got and so I forced myself to deal with myself for three weeks.

It became too much. I had totally lost my balance. Mostly I forgot to eat and lost weight, which scared me. So from time to time I ate more than necessary and more than I actually wanted. I ate so much my stomach hurt. Still, I lost much weight and became terribly thin. Feeling my bones that clearly disgusted me even more.

Was that really me? When I looked into the mirror it was like I saw another person and I wondered: "Who is that woman?" Once I had known: "I am Wanda Fairywinkle. I am the daughter of a successful businessman. I am the sister of a future actress. I am the girlfriend of the man who I love more than anything else."

What was I now? It was like so many parts of me were just ripped out. Ripped out! I wasn't whole any more. I felt like a doll whose arms and legs were just torn apart. What was it that was left of me? I just didn't know and I felt so tortured by my missing knowledge. How was I able to exist although something of me was gone? Could you die of a broken heart? Sometimes I thought I would.

It wasn't that painful to think about my family because I knew although I had been in that terrible rage I had said the truth. I couldn't apologise to them because I didn't regret anything. Not even beating up Blonda. I only felt guilty for not feeling guilty. I couldn't crawl back to them for I didn't feel like I had a reason to. Did that make me a worse monster than I already was? Afterwards I don't think that it had been hate that had ruined that night. It had been pain, which I just couldn't bear any longer. Yes, mixed with anger and fear but it had been pain.

Concerning Juan I felt very guilty. I hadn't told him the truth in the end. But I just hadn't seen a different way. I still didn't!

I wanted to put an end, to my thoughts, my itching arms, my nightmares. Although I felt so guilty I didn't want to crawl in front of him. Would there be any sense in that? I was so tired of going through that emotional roller coaster. I don't know to who I was begging that it all should stop. I wished I could have cried but still I couldn't, no matter how strong my desperation was. I wanted to express my pain by crying, not by scratching. But there wasn't anything left I could control. Have I ever controlled anything in my life?

* * *

Somehow I managed to grab a box from the attic and drive to the hospital in order to empty my locker. But when I opened it another flood of emotions overcame me. My locker still looked just like before all this has happened, as if it wanted to mock me. I tore a photo from the back of the door. It showed me and Juan.

How happy I had been, how much I had believed that we'd always be together. How wrong all that seemed now.

I was mad at that photo, mad at myself for not having been prepared although I knew that it hung there. Angrily I ripped it apart and smashed it into the bin next to the door. That's when Morgan entered the room.

"W-Wanda…hey!" she began confused and wanted to approach me but I turned away and went back to my locker. She was a close friend of mine, a colleague and had already been a fellow student at university. Her wavy, orange-red hair, her blue eyes and her freckled cheeks still looked the same. My environment seemed so ignorant of my emotional state and that everything had changed.

"Hey," I gave back shortly. She was wearing her blue scrubs and had probably come here to take a break from work.

"How are you?" she asked carefully. When I remained silent and just played with the door of my locker she continued: "I was worried about you. I tried to call you, I sent you e-mails…why didn't you answer? What happened? Did you really quit?"

I hadn't told anyone what had happened, not even my friends. So it was a riddle for everyone why I acted like I did. I began to pack my things and when I took out two books I heard Morgan's voice again.

"You and Juan…you broke up, right?" she asked and I froze. "Am I right?"

There were warmth and concern in her voice but I couldn't help feeling ashamed. I placed the books in the box.

"I guess," I whispered and took an empty bottle of water out of my locker. Morgan sighed and I heard how she came nearer.

"I just wanted to say…if you want to talk I'm here for you," she answered patiently and placed her hand on my shoulder. Because of my self-inflicted wounds I flinched. When I angrily turned around the physical pain mixed up with mental pain for I saw the torn photo of me and Juan in her hands.

"Yeah, sure!" I blurted out. "Because all I need is a talk and a bowl of ice-cream and everything will be sugar and rainbows again!"

Morgan's eyes widened. She didn't know that aggressive and destructive side of me. I hadn't known it myself until some weeks ago. I still wished it had never shown up.

"That's not what I-"

"But you meant it!" I interrupted her madly. The last thing I wanted to hear now was that I didn't understand what was happening around me.

"I neither said it nor meant it!" Morgan defended herself. "You don't expect me to believe that you quit just because of Juan! I know there's something else, Wanda!"

I quickly let my hand run through my rebellious hair.

"You don't know what's going on with me! Stop pretending you knew!" I snapped.

"Of course I don't! Because you're not telling me!" she tried to reach my common sense. But it was no use. Madness had replaced everything that had once made me seem loveable.

"SHUT UP, MORGAN!" I yelled, my voice shaking. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Silence. First Morgan's face was shocked, then emotionless and then disappointed. Like it happened with everyone when they found out who I really was. She swallowed.

"Don't worry. I will," she promised coolly, turned around and smashed the photo into the bin while walking out.

Panting I threw the rest of my stuff into the box and then stormed out of the room as well, quickly heading towards my car on the parking lot. Roughly I opened the door, tossed the box onto the passenger seat, sat down myself and smashed the door next to me. I pressed my forehead against the steering-wheel and began to sob. I had done it again. I had pushed someone close to me away because I had feared being hurt again.

Fear – suddenly I realised that it that it was the root of all my actions. I was pushing everyone away because I feared the pain. I had wanted to be the best pupil in school because I had feared disappointing my father. I had never approached my family or Juan about problems because I feared the confrontation. Even my choice of becoming a doctor had been a selfish one because I feared feeling worthless.

"Maybe I'm not so boring for a psychiatrist after all," I mumbled to myself bitterly.

* * *

I had much time to think about until I had my appointment. So I realised how much the fact that I lived in a house my father had paid burdened me. It was also that I felt uneasy about Daddy knowing where I lived. I decided that sooner or later I'd have to move out for my own sake.

But facing the facts that I had no income any more, lived on my savings and had no idea how my life was supposed to go on I knew that no one would let me rent an apartment. I planned to ask the psychiatrist for help in that matter. Maybe there was help for someone who couldn't handle her own life any more. But until I would finally move out I felt that I had to do something else: getting rid of all the things Daddy had paid for me. It kept me busy for a long time, both day and night.

I sold most of them on the internet, not caring if the money I got was fair or not. Once I had sold everything including the house I would transfer all the money to Daddy's bank account and maybe then I'd lose at least part of that guilt I was carrying around with me. After getting rid of most of these objects I realised how few of the things in the house had actually been mine. Seeing what was left of "my" property was similar to what was left of myself. I also decided to sell the car, not only because Daddy had paid for it. I also didn't trust myself any more with it since I felt that sooner or later I'd come up with very, very, stupid ideas…

Feeling miserable became for me something like a routine. I got used to all those painful thoughts. That doesn't mean I began to handle it. I stopped feeling anything. I didn't care for anything any more. Not even that I always ate from paper plates or that I had just pile of clothes instead of a wardrobe. I only ate and took a shower when I noticed that it was time to. I didn't have the need to do those things. My common sense told me to do so.

I had thrown away most of "my" stuff to get rid of the memories. But when I saw the emptiness in my house I had to think even more about the missing things and what I connected with them. A fact was that most of what I was thinking about concerned Juan. Probably because he had been in the house a lot more often than my family.

I saw my former stuff where it wasn't and I connected every missing object to him. The chair he had sat on, the glass out of which he had drunk, the curtains he had moved aside to let the sun shine in…the bed I had woken up in next to him so often. Had I also removed the traces of a time, which had been so happy? Had I really been happy? Or had I just ignored everything that had annoyed me?

* * *

_Only two more chapters to go, my fellow muffins! Yay!_


	11. I know it's over (Part C)

_So I know self-praise stinks but I still like the last senetences of this chapter very much. The next chapter will be the last. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 11: I know it's over (Part C)**

The mental hospital of Amaranth was an old building, quite pretty but also somehow intimidating. It was very complex and I had to ask two people where to go before I found the office of Dr Phobos. I gave Dr Snow's referral to the receptionist and she asked me to wait.

I took a seat in the waiting hall. All the doors here lead into the offices of the psychiatrists. When I looked around in the cold hall I noticed something. All the other waiting patients around me looked surprisingly…normal. I think I had expected to meet people who were obviously mentally unstable. Drug addicts, victims of violence, something like that.

But this could have been any other waiting room. If they had any physical wounds reflecting their mental problems they hid them well – probably like I hid my arms full of scratch wounds.

"Miss Fairywinkle?" a voice called my name. Automatically I turned around and stood up. Dr Phobos was standing just outside her office. She was a tall woman with long black hair in a pony tail.

"That's me," I answered after stepping towards her.

"Please come in," she asked me. We entered the room and she closed the door behind me. The room was white, relatively empty and cold. I didn't like it. She sat down behind her desk and I on the chair across from her. "So Dr Snow referred you?" she wanted to know as she looked at the paper in front of her that I had handed in earlier.

"Yes," I replied although I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or herself.

"Could you tell me why you consulted him in the first place?" was her next question. She looked up to me.

"I didn't really…he is…well, he _was_ my mentor," I clumsily explained. A few general questions followed. I told her where I had studied medicine, that I used to be a resident and that I had quit my job some weeks ago.

"Why did you quit?" she then asked.

I swallowed. I knew that these questions were necessary but I still didn't like them. I already knew that I wouldn't completely open up to Dr Phobos. Dr Snow was right with calling her capable. But she was definitely not a warm person and I only wanted to give her the required information and nothing more. If it hadn't been for my mentor I think I wouldn't have stayed.

"A lot of things happened," I answered and before she could come up with her next question I told her: "I had a huge fight with my family and broke up with my boyfriend. I had no contact with any of them since then and I doubt that there will ever be again."

How trivial that suddenly sounded. Like a small thing I was just making a huge fuss about. You don't go to see a psychiatrist after a breakup. You talk to your best friend, eat lots of chocolate with her and then tell yourself that you hate all men. I couldn't have chosen a worse start. Suddenly I felt so out of place. But I saw no such reaction in Dr Phobos' face.

"And how are you doing since then?" she wanted to know after scribbling something into the file before her.

"Really shitty to be honest," I answered without thinking. I placed my fingers on my lips as if I could catch the escaped words. Again Dr Phobos didn't seem to notice my thoughts.

"Can you explain that further?" she questioned. I tried to.

I explained to her that sometimes just everything annoyed me, every sound, every face, everything! But instead of shouting all those things out, as loud as could, until I felt like my vocal chords broke I kept scratching. It hurt and every time I saw or felt my wounds I became angrier and vented it on myself. It was a vicious circle!

I felt so captured by myself. It was like I was in a room without doors or windows. I screamed and hit the walls until my hands broke but nobody heard me. Nobody let me out of this prison. Every time I thought I could handle my life, I didn't need any windows or doors it all came back even worse than before. Had I lost my mind already? Or should I wish to loose it because then I wouldn't feel that pain any more? I felt like I was pushed all the time and I wanted them all to stop but nobody listened to me. I felt like everyone shouted at me and I prayed for becoming deaf but I didn't, I couldn't even shut my ears because people pulled away my hands.

I didn't tell her all that at one appointment. I came to see her several times, sometimes every week, sometimes every two weeks. Although knowing that there was someone who I could tell about these things going through my mind helped a little I didn't feel much better.

I just couldn't cope with Dr Phobos and her attitude. I knew that for her I was part of her job and I tried to see her as part of my job – the job if not completely breaking down.

It was summer when we came to a conclusion. Everyone wore T-shirts but I who still hid her scratch wounds beneath her clothes. I had told her several times that I didn't want to be hospitalised for some weeks or maybe even months. I didn't want to work on my personal stuff with people who I wouldn't see again after my stay. It required already a lot of strength to open up to Dr Phobos and I didn't have more.

We both considered "outpatient" therapy not enough. We talked through a few other opportunities but one day she gave me a brochure.

"What's that?" I asked.

"That is an organisation called Luna. It's something in-between inpatient and outpatient treatment. You live together with other women and manage your own household. But from Monday to Friday there are social education workers available. They work together with you on your problems, a little bit like therapy but more practically oriented concerning your everyday life and your future. There are a few other institutions like that but I recommend this one for you because they are specialised on women with personality and eating disorders," Dr Phobos explained professionally.

'So now I am a perfect candidate for personality and eating disorders?' I thought bitterly but sadly that didn't even surprise me. Dr Phobos had made some tests with me that proved that this was exactly where I was going.

I opened the brochure and skimmed it through. The logo on the top page showed a moon and stars, so without a doubt the name 'Luna' referred to the Latin word for moon. Still my first association was that it was the short form for 'lunatics'.

"It's only for women then?" I wanted to know for the basic idea didn't sound bad.

"Yes. You live with other women and the social education workers are female as well," Dr Phobos answered with folded hands. I liked the idea. I wasn't eager for working with men after everything with Daddy and Juan. "But you should know that Luna doesn't exist here in Amarenth. You'd have to move to Sparkling Bay."

My heart stopped for a moment. After my high school graduation I had wanted to study medicine just there but Daddy hadn't liked the university. Sparkling Bay was a town at the sea that had its name from the bay that always sparkled like diamonds every time the sun rose and set. It was a two hours car journey from Amaranth.

I smiled weakly and placed the brochure carefully in my handbag.

* * *

There was another reason why Dr Phobos had recommended Luna for me. She had heard that they had a free room, which was a rarity in such institutions. I decided to try my luck and wrote them an e-mail. They answered quickly and soon I had an appointment in Sparkling Bay.

I was very nervous when I went there for the first time. The house had three floors and although it was old it was painted in a bright and soft red. I had met Dr Snow once more on the day before. I had told him how scared I was of being rejected but he had answered that even if they did he'd be there and find another way with me. He did so much for me that I knew I'd never be able to repay him.

Thinking about him helped me a lot to ring the bell and step inside the house.

The first appointment wasn't that bad. The two social education workers were very friendly, offered me a cup of tea and then explained everything about that institution called Luna. They told me everything about the everyday routine, when we had breakfast or lunch together, when we had to take care of the food ourselves, when he had group therapy, when the nutritionist came, when and how often we had our one-to-one conversations with the social education workers, how the girls split up the house work and so much more.

The appointment wasn't that hard. I went home with a good feeling about this. The second appointment was harder. This time they wanted to get to know _me_. That didn't mean we drank tea and had small talk. They asked me about my past, what had happened so I needed to move to a house that was half a mental hospital. It was very hard and I didn't really manage to talk about Juan and my family. Luckily they noticed it and didn't ask me more questions than necessary.

There was another awkward part. They asked me things like:

"Are you on medication because of your depression?"

"Did you have an abortion and if yes, how many?"

"Have you tried to commit suicide?"

"Have you been addicted to drugs?"

"Are you an alcoholic?"

"Have you been hospitalised and where?"

These were only a few of them. With these questions they made me feel like I didn't belong here after all. I began to tell myself that I was simply the weakest person ever and that I shouldn't occupy a room that should belong to someone who had a worse life than I. When I took the train back to Amaranth I told myself again and again to pull myself together, that maybe this was "just a hard time" after all and I just had to learn to handle this life on my own.

I was sure they'd reject me and that I'd have to start from the scratch with no place to go and no perspective for help. But they called and invited me again. I wished that they had finally told me if I could move to Sparkling Bay or not. Being uncertain about my future was a horrible feeling. They assured me however that these numerous invitations were a good sign and that they'd have told me already if they thought that I wouldn't fit into that house and they couldn't work with me.

'So I might be sick enough after all,' I thought.

* * *

Until now I had met only two of the social education workers. The other two ones wanted to meet me as well. Two more appointments followed and I gained the impression that this was a warm and welcoming house where I could feel at home.

Then the last obstacle followed. I met the other girls. If they also had the impression that I would fit into their group I could move in and start over with everything.

Again I was very nervous. I still hadn't apologised to Morgan although she had tried to contact me a few times. I was sure that I was an unbearable person and in no way loveable. There was not a chance that they'd like me and want me to be their house mate.

A social education worker guided me into the dining room where the girls served some self-made ice-cream on one of the last warm days of summer. When the social education worker left I felt like a child that was without its parents to play with the other kids for the first time. After some small talk the girls introduced themselves.

They were six and I might become the seventh. As they talked I realised that I was one of the youngest. Some of them had worked several years before they had landed here, others had moved here right after high school. Only two of them had jobs, little ones that weren't pushing their mental situation. Then it was my turn to introduce myself.

"I'm Wanda…but you know this already," I began, nervously playing with my spoon. "I was born and grew up in Cerise but moved to Amaranth after high school. There I studied medicine and until some months ago I was in my first practical year as a resident. But a lot of things happened and now I'm here."

They asked me a few more questions about my story but I avoided clear answers. I wasn't quite sure about the impression I made although they were treating me nicely. After all I knew how good some people were at faking smiles. When we had eaten the ice-cream they showed me the rest of the house, the kitchen, the living room, the laundry room and finally the room that could be mine.

It was empty and the walls were white. From the window I could see a little part of the harbour and it wasn't far from the sparkling bay the town was named for. I really wished that the room could be mine and that I could live together with all these nice women.

Two days later one of the social education workers called again. She told me that the girls liked me and I couldn't describe the relief I felt when she told me that I could move in next month.

* * *

A lot of paper work had to be done until then. The care was pretty expensive and it took many forms to get through the application. Dr Phobos wrote me a certificate that confirmed how much I needed to move to Luna in Sparkling Bay. Driven by the desperate wish to move out I somehow managed to sell the house. The sum was transferred to my father's bank account together with the money I had made from selling most of the furniture and other stuff. I expected that Daddy could take it as a reason to contact me and that imagination terrified me. I wouldn't have had to worry because nothing happened. The house looked so cool and empty without all those things. On the bright side, that way I everything I owned would easily fit into my room in Sparkling Bay.

A moving company brought everything to my new home. I suppressed my feelings when I walked through the house one last time because if I hadn't I'd have broken down. I forced myself to be just strong enough to bear all this.

It was a warm day of autumn when I moved in. But although at first it felt good to be in Sparkling Bay it wasn't the new beginning I had hoped for. I longed so much for Juan and for falling into his arms, feeling safe and loved in his presence. I thought that it'd be easier to go through the split-up with my family if I still had him. I didn't care for all the things that had gone wrong. I wanted him and his love back so much.

Winter came and with it more and more suicidal thoughts. It was a hard winter, very cold and full of snow. If I slashed my wrists wouldn't it look beautiful in a cruel way if you found pale corpse in the white snow surrounded by red blood? Sometimes I felt my arteries so strong like they wanted me to cut them open. Every time I looked at something I thought about how it could kill me. Even when I saw the sea it was like it wanted to take me. It would be just a little step and I could end everything, I wouldn't have to suffer any more Tempting…

Why should I wake up? I was already half dead. I woke up to take a shower which hurt so much at my arms and my shoulders, to think about the same things again and again.

Had I given up too quickly? After all there was so much left to say which changed from one day to another. If we had kept fighting until really everything was said, until we knew really every thought of each other could there have grown a new beginning?

* * *

The other girls in the house were a close community and it felt good to become a part of it. My depression cast a cloud over my perception for nearly everything. But still I realised that all the other girls were amazing and talented. They were great bakers, cooks, writers, tailors, painters, musicians and so much more. But the world outside had treated them badly and their only safe harbour was our little community. We – at some point I dared to consider myself as a part of them – were the outcasts of society. The broken gears that didn't fit into that machine called life.

I felt terrible about not going to work any more. I was ashamed of being on welfare but every time I thought about finding a new job I had to realise that I was just mentally too unstable. I was desperately searching for a remedy but just couldn't find it. Did it even exist?

Another thing my house mates and I regularly did was watching movies together. We met every Sunday in the living room and had some tea or coffee and cake. One time when we all got together and I had just taken a cup of tea from the coffee table before me one of the girls turned on the TV. While searching for the right DVD I heard someone suddenly remarking:

"Hey Wanda, that actress resembles you somehow."

When I looked at the TV I almost dropped my cup. I saw Blonda.

She played a nurse but for TV her clothes were way tighter and sexier than they were in real life. Her role was about to declare her love to a doctor in a very dramatic way. I couldn't stand seeing it and placed the full cup of tea on the table again. Without answering I left the room and almost ran to my room where I slammed the door behind me and tried to control my breath.

What had made me react like this was…the fact that Blonda had started her career like that night months ago hadn't ever happened. While I was suffering like never before she had just done everything like it had been planned. Were they all living their lives like I hadn't ever been there? Hadn't I ever meant anything to anyone, so my loss didn't break anybody's heart? Then why was I there? What did I suffer for? What did I punish myself for?

* * *

Most of my dreams were weird and chaotic. But I didn't only have nightmares. I also had some pleasant dreams but they always involved Juan. Once I dreamed about the night before the championship tournament of dancing and the way he had been playing with my hair. But when I woke up that lovely memory was soon overshadowed by the mere fact that it would never be like this again.

When I opened my eyes I saw my long hair, which he had loved so much and which he wouldn't be playing around with ever again. I saw my arms, ugly and full of wounds, which he wouldn't be caressing ever again. If I knew all this then why did I still keep my long hair? For who was I still taking care of it? There was no sense in anything any more.

Maybe he would finally leave my mind if I erased the very last thing that reminded of him. The first thing I did after standing up was taking the scissors and cutting my hair. I cut off one curl after another and they fell down to my feet.

I did it without feeling anything, not even when I finally saw how ugly my hairstyle looked now. I looked down and still without a feeling I wondered how this could happen. How did I turn into that…person I now saw in the mirror?

I learned something very important. You should never underestimate the future. It's something no one can control and tomorrow could happen something you haven't ever expected or that you've been waiting for your entire life. Anything can happen. From the point where I stood that insight scared me.

I also learned something about relationships, something pessimistic. I wondered whether relationships that work just haven't ever been through something like I had experienced it. Can people only love if they don't know each other that well? Is it better not to know everything about someone else or even yourself?

I knew I couldn't make anything undone but I wanted to leave it behind me so badly.

* * *

I had moved to Luna in order to work on my problems. But I turned out to be not very cooperative. Talking about Juan was already hard enough but my family triggered even more emotions.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about today?" Kathleen – one of the social education workers – asked me in one of our weekly one-to-one conversations.

'Of course not,' was my first thought. 'The last time I honestly talked about my feelings it ended in a total disaster and now I'm here, with no job, no friends, no family, not even joy! Believe me, I'm not risking losing the few things I have left. Which would be my mind.'

But instead I answered:

"Well, if I talk about those things from the past I'll start crying and I can't talk when I'm crying and that'd make the whole thing kind of senseless."

Instead I focussed on the more practical things because they involved fewer feelings. So I worked on my daily routine, my eating habits and I often took a walk at the harbour, sometimes sitting down on a bench and watching the water sparkling in the sunlight.

"It calms me down but I somehow fail to see the beauty in it," I explained to Kathleen. "My mind tells me that it is beautiful but I just don't feel it. All that pain has made me so numb for everything positive. Good days mean for me that I feel nothing because if you feel nothing you feel no pain."

* * *

Slowly I started accepting that I was a person without family or other loved ones. Slowly the love that I had thought to be so strong dissolved and every minute of it was painful. The only thing that helped me through this hard part of my life was time. It's the stupidest lesson ever. But there are things, which you just have to go through. You just have to hold on. It's absolutely unworthy to say it in those short words because it means more than you can ever say.

One day I found in a box the very thing that I had held on while I had been fighting and shouting and screaming almost one year ago. It was my green ribbon. The only thing that hadn't broken that night and which I didn't want to throw away although it reminded me of the past.

I put it on again, to have something with me that was still whole although I had clenched it so hard when I had been going through all those hard days. It had given me something like strength and maybe it could do so again…?

I wanted it to help me bearing that pain of my love, which faded away. All this had only happened because I had let someone that close to me, because I've had trust and faith. Now suffering was the result. I didn't want to go through something like this again. I never wanted to feel that pain again, which just didn't stop no matter how much I prayed for it. That's why I promised myself to never trust anyone ever again.

I didn't keep it for a long time.


	12. I'll start over

**Chapter 12: I'll start over**

One person can change your whole life. I probably knew this by now better than anyone else. But I only thought of it in a bad way. I had suppressed the fact that there are also good things in life. I had forgotten them. I should learn them again.

I went to the supermarket to buy every time the same. I needed food to live. I didn't care for the taste. The engine needed fuel. That was all eating meant to me. At the supermarket every shelf and its content looked the same to me. It just had different labels. Like always I didn't care for the world around me and was withdrawn into my own.

I threw some cheese into my cart, walked on and realised that the detergent was somewhere else than usual. I sighed because everything that differed from my daily routine was so exhausting. After all I discovered the detergent but some idiot had put it on the very top of the shelf. I didn't reach it and I didn't want to ask another person to get it for me. I still didn't like talking to others. But I saw through the lower parts of the shelf that there was a load of detergent on the other side, which wasn't put away yet.

'What a work moral,' I thought bitterly.

I left my cart where it was and just wanted to go around the shelf quickly to get the detergent. I scratched my arms through my clothes although they hurt at every move I made. I ordered my so-called hairstyle, which was just a weird shock of hair. I passed the make up section and a mirror but I looked away quickly for I didn't want to see my pale skin, my thin body and the rings under my eyes. I heard the sound of my steps and looked down at my sneakers. I wore dark blue jeans and a black blouse because I couldn't stand bright colours.

Everything seemed dark, ugly and colourless to me.

I wanted to enter the corridor where the detergent was but I wouldn't reach it. Suddenly I felt a painful blow on my head, which knocked me down. I landed on the floor, heard the voices of the shocked and worried people around me, which soon began to fade away. The last thing I saw was the green ribbon around my wrist before I lost my consciousness.

* * *

When I woke up again it was like someone was squeezing my brain. I wanted to open my eyes but I saw double which was too much for my brain and caused me another wave of pain. I screwed up my eyes but I had seen enough to know that I was in a hospital. I pulled the covers over my head because the sunbeams also hurt in my head.

I tried to remember what had happened but I only remembered hazily the supermarket. I drowsed a bit until I heard someone opening the door. My headache had eased off a bit and so I risked taking a look at the person. It was a nurse.

"How do you feel?" he wanted to know quietly.

"My head…hurts," I mumbled. "What happened?"

"It was a thump on your head with a ladder," he explained patiently. It seemed logical to me and I began to remember the detergent. "But it was just an accident. The man who is responsible is still waiting."

Accident or not, I wanted to snap at that person for being so dumb and causing me that pain. But I felt too weak to do so.

"It's just a mild brain injury. You'll be able to leave today," he continued. "Do you want a medicine?"

The only thing I could say was yes. For me nothing about that injury felt mild. He brought me a medicine, which I took and then laid down again to sleep. When I woke up again I felt better already. I didn't see double any more and I could sit up without worrying about blacking out again. I called for the nurse again to tell him that I was better now. He got the doctor and after she had checked on me and given me a prescription for a medicine I was discharged.

I dressed again and took my handbag. I didn't look into the mirror and left the room. I couldn't wait for the fresh air outside and wanted to leave but a shy voice held me back.

"Ehm, excuse me?"

I turned around and suspected to see a nurse or a doctor but instead there stood a green-haired and green-eyed man probably of my age, maybe a little younger. He seemed insecure and I wondered what he wanted.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Are you Miss Fairywinkle?" he asked and I nodded. He folded his hands and begin to speak quickly and begging. "I'm the one who knocked you out with that ladder! And I'm so terribly sorry, please believe me! That short trainee had just asked me to help her with the ladder and I really just wanted to help her! I really took care of not hitting anybody and yet-"

"Okay, okay!" I interrupted him in surprise. I knew I had wanted to wear down the responsible one but I hadn't suspected that he would be pleading with me like that. Besides his quick talking had pushed my brain too hard and it began to hurt again. "I believe you."

"Really?" he questioned obviously relieved. "Then you won't sue me?"

"No… I didn't intend to do so," I replied confusedly. Although I had been mad after waking up I hadn't thought of such a drastic step. I had to give a sarcastic laugh. "Actually I should be grateful to you, Mister…?"

"Spellwhite," he added.

"Spellwhite," I repeated. If someone had told me now that this was the first time I had said my future last name I wouldn't have believed them.

"Ehm…why should you be grateful?" he wanted to know, obviously a bit confused.

I sighed and placed my hand on my forehead.

"Because for the first time in a year I slept well. Apart from the headache…but it was still better than every night since…" I began but stopped because I felt like I had gone too far. There was a silence during which I thought about how to bring the conversation back to an everyday level but nothing came to my mind. My head was full of depressive stuff.

"Aren't things…going well…?" he asked shyly. His eyes looked at me insecurely but he _did_ look at me, he didn't look away. That somebody really seemed to care about my emotional state was so unexpected. No one had cared for me for months, except for those who were paid for it. It was the astonishment and sadness about both facts that made me feel something in my throat that I swallowed instinctively.

"No…no, they're not," I answered with a cracking voice. "They haven't ever been…" I moved my hand to my arm again to scratch it slightly. The itch was coming back. I knew I had to satisfy it although I didn't want to. I couldn't do it in his presence and began to turn around. "Thanks for your apology. I need to go now."

Without looking at him again I began to leave with quick steps but his voice made me stop again.

"Are you sure?" he asked in that insecure and yet somehow honest way.

I placed one of my arms on my chest and scratched it a bit with my other hand. While doing so I noticed my green ribbon and realised that I had just seen almost the same colour shade in his eyes and his hair. I didn't want to go home, I didn't want to punish myself again. But how could I ask him to stay with me a little longer, that person I knew for some minutes now and yet the only one who really seemed to care about me?

'I just want to compare the colour shades,' I told myself to have a simple reason to turn around because I knew when I had found the courage do to so, the answer to his question could just pass my lips. 'I just want to compare the colour shades.'

I did one step after another until I had finally turned around. But when I had done so I didn't care for the colours any more.

"No, I'm not sure," I finally answered his question. "I'm not sure about any…"

I had to stop because something inside of me, which I swallowed, began to hurt in my head. I placed my hands on my hair and groaned.

I suppose he didn't want to leave me alone since he saw that there was something wrong with me. He didn't know how grateful I was for these few but understanding words, which showed interest in me. I didn't have the courage to ask him because I was so afraid of being hurt and I was so relieved when he said it. Although I noticed that he needed to force himself as well.

"They have a park outside. We could go there," he suggested hesitantly and added quickly: "Only if you'd like!"

I saw in his eyes the same fear of being pushed away like I felt it. It was strange to see something of yourself in the person opposite and yet it gave me the safety of not being inferior to him.

"I'd like to," I replied after swallowing.

Luckily my headache didn't give me the chance to notice the awkward silence between us when we went outside. We sat down on a bench – two total strangers who sat down on a bench! This situation was so weird.

He probably felt the same and didn't dare to ask me any questions. But I also didn't dare to start talking about my problems. I played around with my hair nervously. I thought that maybe I should have gone home. I supposed he had just asked me out of politeness whether things weren't going well. What was I now sitting here for?

The silence became so awkward I wanted to say anything. Again my green ribbon caught my eye and it was the only subject that came to my mind.

"You see that ribbon?" I asked him and showed it to him. "The colour reminds me of your hair and your eyes."

"Really?" he questioned and took a closer look. "You're right."

"Yeah…"

"That's interesting."

"Right, I thought so too…"

We laughed artificially and remained silent again. Probably he had doubts about the situation as well. It was an embarrassed tenseness. I didn't want to leave after he had offered his help to me in that kind way and he couldn't just walk away. We were stuck.

"So you like that ribbon?" he finally ended the silence. Obviously he had thought it was now his turn to try to have something like a conversation with me.

"Yeah, yeah…it's nice…" I answered. "I found it accidentally when I and my sister-"

I stopped because of my memories. We fell into silence again but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment. Lost in my thoughts I scratched my arm again and my sleeve rid up a bit, so he could see some of the scratch wounds on my arms.

"Who did that to you?" he wanted to know and pointed at my arm. Maybe he had wanted to switch to a different topic through that question, something about cats and other animals with claws. He didn't mean to hit one of my weak points.

"Ehm…I did it myself," I replied looking away.

There it was. The chance to tell somebody anything I wanted, somebody who would listen to me. If I let it pass would I ever get one again? If I just walked away I would never see him again and yet I was so afraid of trusting somebody.

"Why?" he asked after another phase of silence.

It didn't make any sense to me. Since it happened I had done nothing but thinking about it, the reasons, the consequences, how I could have prevented it. Every of my thoughts had been depressive and I hadn't cried for months. And now I tried to open my mouth and speak about it the tears I had wanted to shed so desperately were suddenly there!

It was like I cried every tear I hadn't cried the past months. I hid my face in my hands and placed my elbows on my thighs. I sobbed, I cried. I wanted to say out loud what had been going through my mind all the time but I hadn't suspected that it would be so hard. I didn't want to stop now. I had burst into tears in front of a total stranger – I was already risking everything, so why stepping back?

I told him everything. I told him how my relationship to the man who had meant everything to me began to break when I introduced him to my family. I told him about his arrogance when I had heard him and father planning my life. I told him about the evening that changed everything, that I shouted at my mother, beat up my sister, cried in front of my father and broke up with my ex boyfriend. I told him how I hadn't left my house for months, quit my job, finally moved here and so many things before all that. I told him about the pain, that terrible pain which had made me hurt myself and even want to commit suicide.

Several people passed us and looked confused at the crazy woman who was crying like you normally didn't do it in public. I didn't care. They should see my tears, how desperate I was and even talk about me. At least people noticed me. It was something no one had done for months. I had been just a shadow for such a long time.

What surprised me was that he didn't feel embarrassed by the strange person next to him at all. He didn't feel awkward in any way. It was also no pity or fear of being confronted with my entire life. He also didn't say anything. He just sat there and listened to me and when I talked about my pain, my hate towards myself his facial expression showed that he knew what I meant. He also didn't touch me, maybe because we were emotionally closer than two strangers had ever been.

"Maybe things wouldn't have turned that bad if I hadn't broken up with him in the end," I supposed. I played around with the last hanky that had been in my handbag. By now I had calmed down a bit so my voice sounded almost normal.

"Did he love you?" he finally asked. It was the first time he said something since I had burst into tears. I sighed and thought about it.

"Yes…" I began and sobbed. "More than anything."

"And…did you love him?" he questioned timidly. Probably he didn't know whether he behaved appropriate but his questions gave me the chance to become clear about certain things.

"More than anything," I confessed and again my tears overwhelmed me. "You know, if something of which you are so sure it will never break does exactly that then what can you rely on? I thought I was doing the right thing with him, I really believed it!" I scratched myself and although I was perfectly clear about it I didn't care that he watched me. I wouldn't have cared if the whole world had watched me. I wanted it all out of me, everything that I had carried around with me the last months, some things even my entire life. "I'm just afraid that…one day I'll wake up and realise that I have done just everything…wrong!" I sank down again after saying out loud the fear that returned to me every day, every night, the ghost that was hunting me all the time. "Just everything! I'm so damned afraid of being unhappy forever… I'm so afraid of the future… I'm so afraid of this life…"

I wiped away my tears and I looked at my wet fingers with something like relief. I hadn't forgotten how to cry. I wasn't emotionally dead.

After swallowing I stood up to stretch myself. Crying had been very exhausting and my head was still aching which had made it hard to let everything out. But I had experienced so much emotional pain that this physical pain wasn't that dramatic. He also got up and we walked some steps across the lawn.

"I'm so afraid because…I exactly know how I am… I'm weak… That's all I am," I explicated looking down at my folded hands.

"I don't think you're weak," he contradicted immediately but then regretted his overhasty remark and blushed. "I mean… After all those things you've been through you're still here, even though you wanted to end it all. I mean…this can't be weakness, right?"

I placed my fingers on my lips. He messed up what I had been so sure about. I had been sure I was weak because I suffered, because I didn't fight to become happy.

Hadn't I been as weak as I had thought all the time? Was bearing things also a way of being strong? Strength didn't equal courage. Could that be true?

"This is so strange…" I mumbled. "You see, first I was absolutely speechless when I decided to introduce him to my family. I couldn't believe I was doing this. But when I was betrayed, when I held my life in chains…I guess I reacted how nobody suspected. I told my mother directly that I wasn't like her, I even wanted my sister to suffer, then I begged in front of my father and then I was so sure I would blame it all on _him_. When I knew it was over I began to realise what had happened… I suffered for such a long time…I just wish I could start over…"

I caressed my arms and it hurt, I placed my hand on my stomach and felt my ribs.

"I…I don't wish to pry…but maybe…maybe everything you're going through…everything that happened to you…maybe all this is a…well…" he clumsily tried to explain. "A cure?"

I wrinkled my brows as I dried my face with my sleeve.

"A cure?" I repeated.

He swallowed and looked down to the ground.

"It just sounds like there were a lot of things you overlooked. And maybe…this had to happen…so you can see things clearly and then…maybe something good will happen, you know. Something that couldn't have happened without all that pain," he stammered and although I hadn't taken any positive or encouraging word seriously I somehow believed it this time, from those shaking and innocent lips. Playing around with his hands he carefully raised his head and then something happened that I thought I had forgotten as well – I smiled.

For some minutes we just stood there and after all those heart-warming moments we somehow managed returning to the same embarrassed silence like before. We began to realise that we had been through a moment, which could have been a scene of a very cheap movie. But maybe sometimes that's what life is really like.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked, which was another attempt of having an ordinary conversation.

"Oh, sure!" he answered and took his cell phone out of his pocket. But his jar dropped when he looked at it.

"Something wrong?" I wanted to know politely. He gulped and nervously waved his cell phone.

"No, no! I…just missed a few calls!" he replied and laughed nervously. For a moment I thought I saw a three-digit number on the display.

"Oh…may I ask…from whom?" was my next careful question. I played around with my sleeve while he scratched his head and placed his cell phone in his pocket.

"Well…uhm…it was…my mother," he mumbled and I knew that it was awkward for him to talk about it. Still I was somehow relieved. "I just wanted to get the milk and now I'm here for some hours…"

He bit his lower lip and I sensed that it was time to say good-bye. I gulped.

"Then…I suppose I should go home now too. Lie down and hope that my brain stops feeling like a marshmallow," I suggested and rubbed my temples. Those light-green eyes suddenly gave me a very sad look.

"Ehm…yeah, sure. Marshmallow-brain is bad," was his answer. I knew him only for a few hours and yet it felt so wrong to leave him. But then I pulled myself together and dared to say the next sentence.

"It doesn't have to be the final good-bye, you know," I hinted and when he looked at me this time I thought I saw a little boy who had just been promised the best birthday gift ever. But he didn't dare to believe what I had meant until I continued: "We could meet again. Drink a cup of tea together…or whatever you like to drink."

The smile I saw then on his face was so innocent and honest that it made me smile as well.

"Yes! Yes, of course!" he replied so happy as if I I had just found the solution for his worst problem.

"So…do you know a nice place? I haven't been to any café since I moved here," I asked him.

"I…uhm…good question," he admitted and when he blushed after about a half minute I released him.

"We could go to that café in the shopping centre near the central station. The one with those bright red chairs across from that decoration shop," I suggested.

"Yeah! Yeah, that sounds great!" he agreed.

"How about next Friday. Maybe at 5?" I replied.

"Yeah! Sure!" he answered and clumsily chased a fly buzzing around his face away. It made me smile.

"When I come I won't be that ugly any more. I promise," I jested although there was a truth behind it.

"I don't think you're ugly," he countered and turning serious again for a short moment. "Just sad." He blushed again. "I mean, now you don't look sad any more But that's what I thought when I saw you for the first time."

I swallowed.

"That's sweet," I commented honestly. But then I heard his cell phone ringing. Nervously he rejected the call but it reminded me of our attempt of parting from each other. "I'm afraid I really need to go now."

"Oh, okay!" He offered his hand and I took it to shake it. "Then good bye, Miss-"

"I think we can bury the mister-and-miss-thing," I interrupted him. "I'm Wanda."

"Wanda…?" he repeated dreamily. "That's a pretty name."

"Thanks," I replied and still shaking his hand. "Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Uhm…I always forget things," he confessed a bit embarrassed.

"You haven't told me your name yet," I reminded him.

"Oh, right!" he realised. "I'm Cosmo."

"Well, Cosmo…" I began. "That's quite a long handshake."

"Right…" he agreed and yet it took another minute until we finally ended it. Saying good-bye was so weird. It seemed wrong. "Bye."

"Bye," I repeated and walked away some steps. After turning around and waving at him one last time, the green haired, shy and a bit confused man named Cosmo I went on through the park.

One person can change your whole life. I probably knew this by now better than anyone else.

I felt so carefree when I walked and noticed the spring sun. Had it always been shining that brightly? I breathed and I enjoyed the air in my lungs. I enjoyed feeling alive.

I had jumped by telling a total stranger what I felt and what had happened? Nothing bad. Maybe there was a reason to trust people after all. Hadn't I just met one?

If there was the possibility to meet someone who can show me things I've never noticed before then maybe there was also the possibility that one day I would stop scratching and hating myself. Maybe there was the possibility that one day I could look into the mirror again and know exactly who I am. Maybe one day I would be able to love again and I would let somebody love me the same way.

Finally I left the park through the gate. I felt like I've just had the best sleep of my life, I felt something like energy in my inner and for one moment it was like I didn't hate my arms and my thin body. Once again I looked at my green ribbon and humming a happy tune I walked down the street.

**THE END**

* * *

_Finally this story has come to an end and I'm at least partly satisfied with the result. If you like what I write stay tuned for my next project. You find details in my profile. If you're fed up with me and everything I write you better RUN! #lol#_

_Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, faved and/or subscribed. And special thanks to Emilie Autumn for her song "A cure?" and for capturing the sound of healing wounds._

_Sincerely yours_

_- Bloodthirsty Muffin_


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